


cute charm

by crypsis



Series: destiny knot [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Pokemon AU, Slice of Life, set in hoenn!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 41,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9911726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crypsis/pseuds/crypsis
Summary: Now, the thing is that the pond on Route 102 isn’t much of a place for swimming. The entire area is rather uninhabited, save for the few young trainers fresh from home and the wild Pokémon that live there. People fish in the pond, but that’s about it. So when what is unmistakably a hand touches Yuuri’s foot, he’s not exactly at fault for screaming out loud and toppling into the water.“What the—” he sputters, scrambling to grab onto Milotic while gripping the Ultra Ball tightly. “Who thehell—”“Oh, sorry!” someone says from next to him. “I just wanted to tell you that you dropped a Pokéball.”Yuuri turns, and his brain short-circuits. All those years of learning how to communicate, of learning how to be a proper member of human society fly out of his head and somewhere into the soupy, blue depths of the pond, because Viktor Nikiforov—Pokémon Champion of the Hoenn Region for seven consecutive years and the love of ten-year-old Yuuri’s life—is leaning onYuuri’sMilotic, treading water next to him, and most definitelynotwearing a shirt.Yuuri's a tired but talented Pokémon researcher, and Viktor is the prodigy Champion who's a little in love.





	1. pickup

Yuuri generally likes fieldwork—really, he does, but there’s a difference between observing the diet of the wild Zigzagoon in the area and catching them to record the held item of every single one he comes across. Needless to say, the Zigzagoon aren’t thrilled, either. Yuuri’s covered in dirt and stray fur, with bruises in places where there never should be bruises. _For science,_ he thinks weakly. _For science._

The Zigzagoon he’s holding kicks him in the face.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Sing,” he says, and his Delcatty blinks one eye open, drowsy from the warmth of the sun. Obediently, the Pokémon begins to hum a soft, soothing melody, and Yuuri _would_ fall asleep if he hadn’t downed three mugs of coffee over the course of the day. As it is, he just becomes terribly drowsy. The Zigzagoon in his arms gets the worst of it, though, limp and snoring before it knows what hit it.

“Thanks,” he tells Delcatty, and the Pokémon meows contentedly, rolling over and going back to her nap. The Zigzagoon is holding a Potion. Yuuri records the data, the Pokémon’s measurements, and feeds it a Chesto berry. It’s awake and gone in a matter of seconds.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri sees another Zigzagoon tail. He sighs.

It’s sundown when he runs out of Pokéballs, and he’s so exhausted that the short walk back to the Pokémon lab feels miles long. He can only imagine what he looks like, covered in dirt and grass, hair dishevelled and sleep-deprived, but Professor Minako’s raucous laughter leaves no room for imagination.

“You look like you took a bath on the forest floor,” she says, doubled over, and Yuuri just stands there, unamused and leaning heavily on Delcatty. “Phichit!” she calls, and the boy emerges from the back of the lab. “Come take a picture of this!”

Another burst of giggles, this time from Phichit. “Oh, Yuuri—you poor, poor thing, did a Zigzagoon eat you?” He walks over and plucks a leaf out of Yuuri’s hair. “I love fieldwork Yuuri. Natural beauty at its finest. Right, kitty?”

Delcatty purrs in agreement. Yuuri glares at her, betrayed. “I’m resigning,” he says, “and you are getting released.” Unperturbed at the threat, Delcatty keeps purring, rubbing her head affectionately on Yuuri’s hand.

“You love us,” Phichit says. There’s the unmistakable sound of a camera click.

Yuuri gives his data to Minako, who hums appreciatively. “Don’t make me regret it.” He yawns. “I’m gonna head home.”

“You sure you don’t wanna stay here tonight?” Minako asks. “You look exhausted.”

“I am,” Yuuri says, smiling. “But I didn’t bring a spare change of clothes.”

“Thought you would’ve learned to by now,” Phichit says. “You ruin your clothes every time you do fieldwork.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, “you came back half-naked once.”

“And I embrace the experience,” Phichit says, grinning widely. “I’m not ashamed.”

“Maybe you should be,” Yuuri says, and slings his bag over his shoulder. “See you tomorrow,” he calls, and steps out of the lab.

It’s dark now, the Taillow beginning to sing their last evening songs. Yuuri calls his Delcatty back into its ball sends out his Beautifly. The Pokémon flutters about, chirping. With a soft smile on his face, Yuuri reaches out a hand to stroke its head softly.

“Hey, boy,” he says, “it’s time to go home.”

 

The journey from Littleroot to Lavaridge is rather long, even with Beautifly flying them over. Sleepy as he is, Yuuri can still appreciate the cool night air, the swathes of stars, Beautifly’s familiar warmth at his back. They land at the entrance to the hot spring, and Yuuri fairly stumbles in, remembering to return the Pokémon into its ball.

“Yuuri!” his mother says, smiling. And then she blinks. “Oh, dear. Fieldwork again?”

“Hi, mum,” Yuuri says. “I’m gonna take a bath.”

“Yes, yes,” his mother says, fairly pushing him to the baths. “You should.”

It’s rather cathartic to scrub off all the dirt caked on his body. Yuuri studies the fresh, tender bruises that appear on his clean skin, and scoffs inwardly at whoever says Zigzagoon is a weak Pokémon. He doesn’t realize he’s drifted off until he wakes to the soft tolling of Mari’s Chimecho.

“Don’t drown,” Mari says, crouching. “You’ve been in here for like twenty minutes. Just go to bed.”

“Hi,” Yuuri says sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

“Bye,” Mari says, heading out.

So Yuuri climbs out of the bath, eyelids heavy, and makes his way to his room. It feels good, to wear clean clothes again, to not be dusty and covered in Pokémon fur. He lets Delcatty and Beautifly out of their Pokéballs, and both Pokémon curl up on his bed, leaving a nice Yuuri-shaped spot just for him.

“Sorry,” Yuuri whispers to his last Pokéball. “You’re a little too big to fit in a fishbowl now.”

He places it next to Beautifly and promptly collapses. Delcatty is purring, a soothing, musical sound, and Yuuri falls asleep in moments, too tired to even dream.

 

He flies over to Littleroot Town the next day, dropping his stuff off at the Pokémon Lab and bidding Minako a good morning.

“Same thing today,” Minako says, already impressively conscious. She’s hovering around her Gardevoir with a measuring tape, scribbling the data onto a clipboard while the Pokémon stands there calmly, regal as ever.

“Great,” says Yuuri, rubbing his eyes. He takes a large, scalding gulp of coffee, then sets it down. “See you at lunch.”

The sun has barely risen when Yuuri catches his first Zigzagoon of the day. As always, Delcatty snoozes peaceably in a sunbeam, and Yuuri vaguely entertains the thought of abandoning his research and joining her. She’s there mostly for safety purposes, just in case something unusually strong comes along and kicks Yuuri’s ass while he’s wrestling a Zigzagoon. Of course, that doesn’t really happen. What does happen is Yuuri throwing Quick Ball after Quick Ball at what is now six hundred and thirty-seven Zigzagoon, and occasionally getting attacked with all the fervour that a newly captured Pokémon can muster. That isn’t to say that there aren’t docile Zigzagoon. They’re pretty cute most of the time, but every once in a while—

“Yeah, fine!” Yuuri half-shouts, spitting fur out of his mouth. “Run, you antiscience animal!” Delcatty opens an eye lazily to watch Yuuri fume. “Good fucking riddance.” He swears a lot during fieldwork. It can’t be helped.

But then, at precisely 11:46 AM, something wondrous happens. A Zigzagoon scurries out of the underbrush, and Yuuri blinks, thinks he’s going a little mad, because normal Zigzagoon don’t look like that. It’s just slightly off-colour, with a unique sheen that Yuuri’s overcaffeinated mind almost doesn’t comprehend. And then it’s like fireworks go off in his head, the words SHINY SHINY SHINY running through his mind.

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, and flings a Quick ball at the Zigzagoon, his hands shaking a little. _The chance of finding a Pokémon with alternate colouration is approximately one in eight thousand one hundred and ninety-two,_ Minako supplies helpfully in his thoughts.

So, of course, the Zigzagoon pops out of the ball and takes off running.

“ _Hey_!” Yuuri shouts. “Get back here!”

He sprints after it, Delcatty by his feet and suddenly wide awake. The Zigzagoon runs in a zigzag, which Yuuri hadn’t really acknowledged as a genial tactic until today. The undergrowth is thick and annoying, the ground uneven. He can’t bring out Beautifly in such a narrow kind of place—the Pokémon’s large, delicate wings would be caught in the shrubs. So he runs, dying a little bit inside. They burst out of the long grass into a clearing, and Yuuri vaguely realizes they’re on the outskirts of Oldale Town. Then they’re not—that town really is tiny—and the Zigzagoon leaps into the pond on Route 102 and makes for the deep forest.

“Don’t you dare,” Yuuri wheezes, and flings his Pokéball into the water. His Milotic appears, immense and beautiful, and waits for Yuuri and Delcatty to get on before making pursuit. As nimble as Zigzagoon is, it’s no match for a Milotic in the water, and they catch up to it at the middle of the pond, Milotic leaving white foam in its wake. Yuuri throws an Ultra Ball—he isn’t taking _any_ chances—with practiced precision, and watches as the Zigzagoon disappears in a flash of light and the ball floats on the water’s surface, shaking one, two, three times.

“Yes,” Yuuri breathes. “Yes, yes, yes!”

Milotic swoops next to the Pokéball so Yuuri can pick it up, clutching it euphorically to his chest. “Thanks, Milotic,” he says, patting the Pokémon’s neck. “Let’s go back to shore.”

Now, the thing is that the pond on Route 102 isn’t much of a place for swimming. The entire area is rather uninhabited, save for the few young trainers fresh from home and the wild Pokémon that live there. People fish in the pond, but that’s about it. So when what is unmistakably a hand touches Yuuri’s foot, he’s not exactly at fault for screaming out loud and toppling into the water.

“What the—” he sputters, scrambling to grab onto Milotic while gripping the Ultra Ball tightly. “Who the _hell_ —”

“Oh, sorry!” someone says from next to him. “I just wanted to tell you that you dropped a Pokéball.”

Yuuri turns, and his brain short-circuits. All those years of learning how to communicate, of learning how to be a proper member of a human society flies out of his head and somewhere into the soupy, blue depths of the pond, because Viktor Nikiforov— Pokémon Champion of the Hoenn Region for seven consecutive years and the love of ten-year-old Yuuri’s life—is leaning on _Yuuri’s_ Milotic, treading water next to him, and most definitely _not_ wearing a shirt.

Yuuri takes the proffered Pokéball. His Beautifly is dry and safe inside it. “Thanks,” he manages, a few moments too late to seem casual.

“It really is a wonderful specimen,” Viktor says, smiling. “Your Beautifly.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says again. With a great effort, he clambers onto Milotic, almost slipping off. His fight-or-flight response is kicking in with astounding force, every part of his body saying _run, run!_ “I’m, uh— gonna go.”

“Wait!” Viktor says, still hanging on to Milotic. For some reason, he sounds puzzled. “It’s me, Viktor.”

“I know,” Yuuri says, trying to wipe off his glasses.

“Oh, good,” Viktor says, sounding relieved.

 _I’m terrified_ , Yuuri thinks. “I’m Yuuri,” he says, because it seems polite to introduce himself, then resists the urge to smack himself across the face. As if Viktor Nikiforov cares what his name is. Milotic _laughs_ , a gentle vibration down its entire body, almost sending the sleeping Delcatty into the water.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, seemingly delighted. “Care for a battle?”

Yuuri shakes his head furiously. “Sorry,” he says, “I’m not really cut out for that kind of thing.” He turns around and pats Milotic’s neck and the Pokémon begins to head for the shore, Viktor still in tow.

“Oh,” says Viktor, sounding disappointed. “But your Pokémon look so strong!”

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Yuuri says, pointedly looking forward. He doesn’t really know what he’s done to be in this situation. “I don’t particularly like the feeling of losing spectacularly.”

“That’s a little insulting to your Pokémon, don’t you think?” Viktor says.

“Not really,” Yuuri says simply. “We know how strong we are. And when we have no chance.”

They arrive at the shore, Yuuri dismounting Milotic. The Pokémon lowers its head to blow playfully on his hair, and Yuuri reaches out to cradle its cheek with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says. “You’re a good boy.”

“I know,” Viktor calls, still resting his arms on Milotic. He _winks_.

Yuuri takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down. “You might want to get off now,” he says, and Viktor obeys hurriedly. With a flash of light, Milotic returns to the Pokéball.

“It was nice meeting you!” Viktor says, grinning. “Maybe we’ll see each other again, when you’re chasing another Zigzagoon.”

“I—” Yuuri shakes his head. “Bye.”

He almost runs.

 

Yuuri is still dripping when he walks into the lab.

“Good grief, Yuuri,” Phichit says, getting up from his desk and grabbing a towel out of his bag, “what the hell?”

“I fell into a pond,” Yuuri says quietly, unmoving as Phichit dries him off.

“Yeah,” Phichit says, “I can tell.”

“I met Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri says, eyes blank.

“You _WHAT?_ ”

“He asked me to battle him,” Yuuri continues, “and I tried to run away, but he just kept hanging onto Milotic—”

“You turned down a battle with Viktor Nikiforov?” Phichit screeches, and the Dedenne in his lab coat pocket squeaks in surprise. “Oh, sorry, baby,” Phichit coos, before turning to Yuuri again and staring him in the eye. “What the hell, Yuuri?”

“It was Viktor Nikiforov, Phichit!” Yuuri exclaims. “I could barely talk. And you know we would’ve been demolished, anyways.”

“Oh, but the _experience_ is worth it!” Phichit says. He shakes his head. “Whatever. Did you get an autograph at least?”

“Uh, no?” Yuuri says. In his mad bid to escape, it had totally slipped his mind.

Phichit facepalms. “So you didn’t ask for a photo, either. Of course you didn’t.”

“Not all of us can be like you, Phichit,” Yuuri says. The shock is slowly wearing off, and he suddenly remembers the Ultra Ball clutched in his hand. “Oh! Look, this was what I went into the pond for.”

Phichit fairly screams when he sees the shiny Zigzagoon. “Yuu- _ri_ !” he says exuberantly, taking Yuuri’s hands, “you _are_ a lucky boy today, aren’t you?”

 

As per usual, Beautifly flies them home at sundown, and Yuuri opens the door to the hot springs with a spring in his step.

“Hey, mom!” he calls, striding in, “guess what I caught today—”

For the second time today, Yuuri feels his heart stop. The Pokéball in his hand falls to the floor, and Beautifly emerges in a burst of light, too-large wings catching on the walls. It opts to perch on the ceiling instead like some strange, immense chandelier, wings opening and closing quietly. Yuuri barely notices.

“Oh, hello, Yuuri,” Viktor Nikiforov says, grinning from beside Yuuri’s mother. “It’s nice to see you again!”

 

After around fifteen minutes, Yuuri pretty much accepts that he is in fact conscious, and that Viktor Nikiforov is walking around in his house, trademark Alolan Ninetales at his heels. Viktor’s talking, saying something about how he wanted his Pokémon to take a well-deserved break in the hot springs, how he was planning on staying in the Lavaridge Pokémon Centre but Yuuri’s mother had been _oh-so-kind_ and offered him a spare room in their house. She’s definitely recognized him—seven years ago, Viktor’s match against the previous Pokémon Champion had been broadcast on national television. She seems rather calm about it all, though, Yuuri’s father as well, but Yuuri’s still a little overwhelmed. Maybe a lot overwhelmed. He’s not sure.

“—I’m taking a break from travelling,” Viktor explains, helping Yuuri’s mother with the chores. “So I thought I’d come back to Hoenn, relax for a while.”

“Then it’s back on the road for you?” Yuuri’s father asks.

Viktor grins. “I like seeing the world while I’m still young,” he says.

“Oh,” Yuuri’s mother says, “Yuuri was a little like you when he was younger.”

“I what?” Yuuri blurts out, feeling the tips of his ears get warm.

“Really?” Viktor asks, delighted.

“Oh, yes,” Yuuri’s mother says. _Please stop_ , Yuuri thinks, trying to focus on preparing Delcatty’s dinner. “He wanted to go to all those other regions—Kanto, Alola, Sinnoh, you know? He went to Unova last summer—called me every night saying _mom, please, can I keep this Pokémon_ —”

“Delcatty!” Yuuri calls, a little too loudly, and sets the dish on the ground.

“That's adorable,” Viktor says, beaming, and Yuuri flushes down to his neck. “I've been to Unova, too! It's wonderful, isn't it?”

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri says, more than a little flustered. _Adorable?_ “I’m, uh—gonna go to my room,” His Beautifly, already fed and sated, flutters down to perch on his shoulder, and Yuuri _flees_.

He bumps into Mari on the way, and she must see how terrified he looks, because she just sighs and says, “I guess you've met the house guest.”

“I'm so uncomfortable,” Yuuri whispers, eyes wide. “He's so good-looking.”

Mari laughs. “He's just a kid too, you know? At the end of the day.” She reaches out to ruffle Yuuri’s hair. “I know what he is to you, but try to remember that.”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Good.” Then she tilts her head, inquisitive. “Viktor said he'd talked to you earlier today? Said you were quote-unquote _charming_.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri says, horrified. “I—I was just chasing a Pokémon? And he touched my foot? I fell into the pond.”

Mari raises an eyebrow. “I feel like I'm missing a bit of the story here.”

“I fell into a pond in front of him,” Yuuri whispers.

“Were you being charming while you fell?” Mari asks, confused.

“No? How do you even—” He shakes his head. “I don't know?”

Mari shrugs. “Well, don't stress about it too much,” she says. “He seems rather fond of you. And he isn't a bad guy, from what I've seen. A little ditzy, but that's to be expected from a prodigy, right?”

Yuuri nods wordlessly. Mari reaches up to give Beautifly a quick pet. “Well, I'll see you at dinner,” she says, then heads to the kitchen, leaving him alone in the hallway.

Yuuri takes a deep breath. _You can do this,_ he tells himself. _You can do this. Relax._

 

Dinner is exponentially better. Viktor’s beautiful Ninetales is enthusiastically friendly, and Yuuri spends much of his time running his fingers through its luxurious fur, white as snow.

“Maccachin likes you,” Viktor notes.

Yuuri smiles, feeds Maccachin a morsel of his dinner, and the Ninetales promptly lays its head on his knee. “I like him, too,” he says. “He's lovely.”

Viktor is grinning. “I'm glad you think so,” he says. “He was my first Pokémon, you know.”

 _I know,_ Yuuri thinks. “From Alola,” he says instead, scratching behind Maccachin’s ears. “Ice and fairy instead of fire.”

“Oh, yes,” Viktor says, as if remembering. “You're a Pokémon researcher.” He tilts his head. “And you're so young, too. That's rather impressive.”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I work with people even younger than me,” he says. “And I’m more of an assistant than anything, really.”

Mari snorts. “Don’t be so humble, little brother,” she says, and turns to Viktor. “Minako asked for him right after he finished his journey, when he was twelve. He's brilliant.”

“ _Mari_ —” Yuuri considers burying his face into Maccachin’s ruff.

“What?” Mari says, shrugging. “It's true.”

“You’ve got to show me your research someday, Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims, eyes wide. His eyes are amazingly blue, and Yuuri finds a little hard to look directly at them.

Yuuri squirms. “It’s really not that interesting,” he says.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor says plaintively, half-whining, “please?” And Yuuri really can't say no to that, can he?

“Fine,” he says. “After dinner.”

Viktor’s smile is wide, blindingly bright. Yuuri feels a bit like he's been had.

 

“Well, uh—Professor Minako generally focuses on Pokémon habitats and distribution,” Yuuri says, rifling through his papers, “but she’ll go for anything that she finds interesting.”

Viktor nods, picks up a graph and looks at it curiously. Next to Delcatty, Makkachin is curled up on Yuuri’s bed, all nine tails fanning over its body like an immense silver umbrella.

“Right now I'm working on a study of Zigzagoon’s held items,” Yuuri continues. “You know how when you catch a Pokémon, sometimes they're holding something?” Viktor nods, and he actually seems interested. “So the original hypothesis was that their held item generally varied depending on where they were found—Oran berry if it was near a berry grove, a potion if it happened to be living around a Pokémart. But from what I've seen, it seems like there's a strong relationship to the level of the Pokémon as well—there's a higher chance of it holding a rarer item if its level is higher.”

“Interesting,” says Viktor, rifling through the data.

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiles. “Is it really so hard to believe I'm telling the truth?”

Yuuri shrugs, starting to put his papers back together. “Well, you're _you_ ,” he says. “And—well, even Mari gets tired of me talking about this kind of stuff, even if she pretends she isn't.”

“I think it's great,” Viktor says. “I've only really known about the battling side of Pokémon. It's refreshing to hear about it from a scientific standpoint.” He tilts his head, curious. “Do you not like battling, Yuuri?”

Yuuri shrugs, stands up to put the papers back onto his desk. “Battling’s a good way to make money,” he says. “But only if you know you’re going to win all the time.” He reaches out a hand to stroke Delcatty softly, feeling the familiar softness under his fingers. “When—when I was on my Pokémon journey, and just beginning to learn how, I wasn’t very good. I lost sometimes, and losing costs money, which we didn’t have a lot of at the time. So after my eighth gym badge, I just went home. Figured I went far enough. Even now, it’s a little bit of a gamble. I’ll battle in self-defence, but otherwise—” He shakes his head. “I hate seeing my Pokémon faint.”

Viktor nods slowly. “I think I understand,” he says.

Yuuri settles on the bed. “Why did you choose to be a trainer?” he asks with an uncharacteristic burst of boldness.

“Oh, because I was good at it,” Viktor says, a small smile on his face. “Just a tiny bit of talent, nothing special. Maccachin was a gift from my parents—they have a summer house in Alola somewhere. It’s not like they were expecting anything, but I would play around with the neighbourhood kids, and I just kept on winning.” He toys absently with the end of one of Maccachin’s tails. “So they sent me off to Yakov. You know who that is?”

Yuuri nods. “He was one of the Elite Four, right?”

“Years ago,” Viktor says, amusement in his voice. “He was old even when I first met him. I remember thinking he was the crankiest old man I’d ever met. But he was a good teacher—he taught me everything, helped me plan out my team, gave me an Ice Stone to evolve Maccachin with. And I drove him crazy—I was always trying new things, never really doing what he told me to do.” He laughs. “I remember he had a Shiftry that would follow him around all the time—I was terrified of it in the beginning. It had the meanest eyes I’ve ever seen on a Pokémon.”

Yuuri can’t help it—he cracks a smile. “Minako’s Gardevoir scared me a little too,” he admits. “It was taller than me at the time, and whenever it stared at me, I would forget how to do basic math.”

Viktor laughs. “Not anymore, though?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I’ve grown a little taller,” he says.

“A little.”

Yuuri frowns. “I’ll grow more,” he says. “I’m only seventeen.”

‘We’ll see,” Viktor says teasingly. “I stopped growing when I was seventeen.”

“That’s your problem,” Yuuri says without thinking, then slaps his hand over his mouth. But Viktor is laughing, eyes bright.

“Maybe it is,” Viktor says. He gets to his feet, and Yuuri prepares himself for a _goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow_. Instead, Viktor offers a hand to him. “I’ve met all of your Pokémon,” he says. “Would you like to meet some of mine?”

 

Viktor only has half his team on hand at the moment—the other three are being taken care of by his parents in Alola.

“Six Pokémon at once is a little much when you’re travelling,” Viktor explains. “I make sure to rotate them around every once so often, though.”

Yuuri is wide-eyed. Maccachin alone is one thing, but seeing even half of Viktor’s team makes him feel like he’s nine again, watching the Pokémon League Championships on television, falling in love just a bit. There’s an Altaria perched on top of the cabinet, a Starmie on Viktor’s bed. Maccachin follows after Yuuri, still yawning.

“Oh,” Yuuri says softly. He turns to Viktor. “Can I?”

“They won’t bite,” Viktor says, a hint of pride in his voice. “Go ahead.”

Yuuri extends a careful hand to the Altaria first, and after a moment of hesitation, the Pokémon nuzzles at his palm with a sky-blue beak, then starts to hum a low, soothing melody. It hops off of the cabinet to perch on Yuuri’s shoulders—it's a little heavy, but Yuuri’s too excited to care—and envelops him with its soft, downy wings, still humming. Yuuri can't help but laugh giddily. The Starmie begins to approach him as well, central gem flickering slightly.

“Hello,” Yuuri says gently, holding out a hand, and places it gently on the warm gem. With a strange, almost alien sound, the Starmie comes closer, until it's almost standing on Yuuri’s feet. Yuuri takes a glance at Viktor, who's wide-eyed, speechless. Immediately, his heart sinks—had he overstepped his boundaries? “Viktor?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, a smile forming on his face. “You are just full of surprises, aren't you?”

“What?”

“My Pokémon aren't exactly shy, but—” Viktor shakes his head. “I've never seen them take to somebody so quickly.”

“They’re just good Pokémon, that's all,” Yuuri says. “You should see some of the Zigzagoon I work with. It's like I've hurt them in a past life or something.” He hesitates. “Can I sit on your bed?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Viktor says. “It’s not even my bed, really.”

With a sigh of relief, Yuuri sits. Altaria really is a little heavy—it seems to be rather large for one of species, too. And there's something about it—a quiet vivacity in the way it moves—that makes it obvious that it's a Pokémon that's extraordinarily strong. Yuuri can see this subtle strength in Maccachin and the Starmie as well. _Champions_.

Viktor settles down beside him, close enough that Yuuri feels his heart rate start to rise. Even Altaria’s humming does little to alleviate his nervousness. Viktor reaches out a hand towards Yuuri’s face, and Yuuri flinches, breath catching in his throat.

Viktor sees. He withdraws his hand, a strange expression on his face that looks a little like disappointment.

“You have a feather in your hair,” he tells Yuuri, his voice noticeably quieter.

“Oh,” says Yuuri, and reaches up to pluck it out. “Thanks.”

A beat of silence.

“You're scared of me, Yuuri,” Viktor says, and—oh, that's definitely disappointment, mixed in with a bit of confusion. “Why are you scared of me?”

Yuuri looks into those blue, blue eyes, throat dry. “I can't help it,” he says quietly. “You're you.”

“You keep saying that,” Viktor says. “I don't quite understand.”

“I-I’ve only ever seen you on television,” Yuuri says. “You're about as real to me as Mew is. And—well, this is all rather sudden, you know?” He shakes his head. “I just—I just get nervous.”

“I see,” Viktor says softly, emotions flitting across his face like shadows. After a pause, he speaks again. “I hope we can be friends, Yuuri. Do you think that's possible, given a little time?”

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat.

Here’s the thing: Viktor is beautiful, famous, strong, and the world knows his name. He's a star, a legend, one that ten-year-old Yuuri worshipped and pined for, just like thousands of other ten-year-olds. The two of them live in different worlds, and yet—

Yuuri wants.

“Yeah,” he says eventually, and watches Viktor’s face light up with a grin. “I think it is.”

 

The day after is a Saturday. Yuuri wakes up at seven-thirty and shoves a piece of bread in his mouth, then races to the town’s Pokémart. Yuuko’s already there, stocking the shelves.

“Sorry!” Yuuri says, gasping, Delcatty at his heels. “I should've woken up earlier—”

“Relax, Yuuri,” Yuuko says with a smile, “you're on time. Take these to the back, would you?” The last part is addressed to her Plusle, who chirps cheerfully and grabs the extra Potions, then darts to the back of the store.

“Oh, good,” Yuuri says, sagging in relief. “Do you need me to help with the shelves?”

“I think we’re good,” Yuuko says. “You can man the cash register. And after I'm done with these, you are going to tell me _everything_.”

Yuuri turns to her from behind the counter. “About what?”

“ _Viktor_ , you dummy,” Yuuko says, eyes feverishly bright.

Yuuri blinks. “I—who told you?”

“Word gets around fast in this tiny town,” Yuuko says. Then she laughs. “Mari, of course.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri says, anxious. “What if reporters show up?”

Yuuko waves a hand dismissively. “Won't happen,” she says. “It’s not like she told just anybody. Don't worry. But—you! Start talking!”

So Yuuri does. He's known Yuuko since they were children—they'd started out on their Pokémon journey together, but she’d opted to go home after her fifth badge and only finished her journey after a year at home. She’d been a fan of Viktor’s before Yuuri had been, and Yuuri remembers the two of them trying to copy Viktor’s battle strategies in the backyard. He’d been a little in love with her back then, but his crush on her had faded when he'd turned eleven, and they've never stopped being good friends. Yuuko’s seeing Takeshi now, and Yuuri—well, Yuuri has his research.

“Oh my god,” Yuuko says, after Yuuri’s finished recounting last night’s events. “How are you still _alive_?”

“I don't know,” Yuuri says honestly. “I really don't.”

“Oh my god—” Yuuko’s about to launch into a rant of some kind, but she's interrupted by a customer opening the door. “Hi!” Her voice goes an octave higher. “How are you doing today? Anything I can help you with?”

 

Yuuri’s been working at the Pokémart for as long as he's been working at Minako’s. It's been like this since he was twelve—Minako’s on the weekdays, the Pokémart on weekends. However, while Yuuri had slowly become accustomed to the lab, the Pokémart never stops being a surreal place.

Sometimes, people come in and ask for ninety-nine of a particular item, then proceed to fork over thousands and thousands of dollars in cash. Yuuko has to put the money in a spare garbage bag. There are preschoolers with fully-evolved dragon Pokémon. Yuuri’s fairly sure he's seen Arceus in some twelve-year old’s Pokéball, but at this point, he's not sure whether he dreamed it or not. Once, some kid tried to ride his bike inside the store and Minako came out of _nowhere_ and gave the poor kid a tongue lashing.

“Is this place even real?” Yuuri wonders.

“I don't even know,” Yuuko says honestly. “But it makes money, so I guess it is.”

Around noon, a girl comes in and tries to buy fifty Max Repels.

“Sorry,” Yuuri says, looking at her badges. “You don't have enough badges to—”

“Please,” the girl whispers, eyes wide and imploring. “I've seen enough Zubat for a lifetime, _please_ —”

“Yuuri!” Yuuko hisses. “Have a heart.”

Yuuri thinks back to his Pokémon journey, remembers the treks through dark caves and getting swarmed by thousands upon thousands of Zubat—

“You're right,” he says passionately. “Have them,” he tells the girl. “Have them all. Good luck.”

“I love you,” the girl says, her voice breaking. “I love you both.” And then she's gone. Yuuri doesn't ever see her again.

All in all, however, it's not a bad job. Yuuri gets to gossip with Yuuko, comes to be a little braver when talking to people, and gets a discount when actually buying supplies. He's thankful for it—Yuuko’s mother had hired him when his family was short on money, and he's been there ever since.

Lunchtime is a welcome break, and Yuuko turns the OPEN sign on the door to BE BACK IN AN HOUR. They eat their lunches on a grassy hill next to the Pokémart, with Takeshi joining them. They're halfway through the break when Takeshi suddenly falls silent, looking at something in the distance.

“Oh my god,” Yuuko breathes. “It's really him.”

Yuuri turns, and a little silvery thrill runs through his body, because Viktor is waving at him from the bottom of the hill. Maccachin is at his heels like always, fur gleaming under the sunlight. Yuuri waves back, a little apprehensive.

“Look at that Ninetales,” Takeshi whispers. “People would kill for that Ninetales.”

“Shush!” Yuuko says fiercely. “He's coming!”

Viktor’s been called an ice prince by the media, a title that comes from his appearance rather than his personality. The icy majesty of blizzards suits him, but Yuuri can't help but think he fits in well with Lavaridge Town, too—the warmth of spring sunshine, the flakes of volcanic ash that float through the air.

“Mari said you'd be here,” Viktor says cheerily.

“Hey,” Yuuri says, trying his best to stay casual. “This is Yuuko, and that’s Takeshi.”

“Nice to meet you,” Viktor says, flashing a glowing smile. “I'm Viktor.” As if they don't know. “And this is Maccachin.”

With a happy half-bark, Maccachin pounces on Yuuri, licking his face and pushing him over. Yuuri grins, clenching his eyes shut, and buries his fingers in Maccachin’s ruff.

“Maccachin!” Viktor says despairingly, and the Pokémon eases off, letting Yuuri sit up again. “I'm sorry, Yuuri.”

“It's okay,” Yuuri says. “I'm flattered. What's—uh, what's up?”

“Well,” Viktor says, settling down on the grass next to him. “I just wanted to know if you were busy tonight.”

“He isn't,” Yuuko says shrilly.

Yuuri whips around and shoots her a glare.

“Oh, great!” Viktor says, looking pleased. “Do you mind taking a walk with me? After dinner?”

Takeshi chokes on his food very audibly.

“Sure,” says Yuuri. _Stay calm, stay calm._ “I’d love to.”

“Of course you would,” Yuuko whispers. Yuuri kicks her.

“Alright, then,” Viktor says, then to Yuuko and Takeshi, “Would you two like to join us?”

Yuuko shakes her head furiously. “Oh, no,” she says. “We’re busy. Very busy. With things.”

“My grandma,” Takeshi blurts out, like that explains anything. “So, uh—you two just go enjoy yourselves. On your… walk.”

“That's a pity,” Viktor says. “Maybe next time, then.” He turns to Yuuri, those lovely blue eyes as bright as ever. “I'll see you later, Yuuri.”

“Bye,” says Yuuri.

And then Viktor’s gone, heading back down the hill, Maccachin trotting after him with a wistful glance at Yuuri. There's a collective silence among the three of them, broken only when Viktor’s out of earshot.

“Yuuri,” Takeshi says slowly, “did you just get asked on a date by Viktor Nikiforov?”

“What—” Yuuri sputters, appalled. “That would never—he just wants to be friends!”

“Well,” Yuuko says, “you have to admit, it was rather suggestive.”

“I'm not admitting anything,” Yuuri says resolutely. He gets up and dusts off his pants. “We should be getting back.”

“Aww, is Yuuri embarrassed about his potential suitor?” says Takeshi, grinning devilishly.

“I am _not_ ,” Yuuri says vehemently. “And I have no _potential suitors_ —what is _wrong_ with you all—”

“We just want you to have _fun_ , Yuuri!” Yuuko says, sing-song. She skips down the hill and turns around to look at him. “You should loosen up! Live a little. You’re literally working like—all the time.”

Yuuri thinks about his trip to Unova, a blur of alcohol and loud music and waking up in stranger’s bedrooms. “I’ve had fun,” he says. “It was a little scary, to be honest.”

Yuuko rolls her eyes. “Of course it was.” she says. “Come on, break’s over.”

 

The rest of the day passes by in a blur, more surreal than usual. Yuuko forces him to leave early (“You can't be late! Not for Viktor!”) so Yuuri is home in time for supper. Dinner’s amusing, hearing Viktor sing praises of the food until Yuuri’s mother laughs, flattered.

“I swear,” Viktor says, “I’m going to gain so much weight staying here.”

Vaguely, Yuuri wonders when Viktor is going to leave—not because he particularly wants him to, but because he knows it's inevitable. People like Viktor are easily bored—they need new places to see, new toys to play with. Yuuri knows the type. He'd been with a boy like that before—a dashing gym leader, a little older than him, who went through people and places like Yuuri went through papers. Of course, it didn't last. But friends—friends he could do, probably.

“—Yuuri!”

Yuuri blinks. Viktor must've said something to him. “Sorry, what?”

“Are you too tired?” Viktor asks, concern in his eyes. “Should we take a walk another day?”

“No,” Yuuri says, shaking his head, “no, it's fine, really.” He stands up. “Let's go.”

 

Jagged Pass is lovely at sunset, the muted orange brilliance lighting up the slope with a soft, warm glow. The Spoink are bouncing about in the tall grass, calling to each other every so often, and the Numel graze quietly, as indifferent as ever.

“It's been a long time since I've been here,” Viktor says, a small smile on his face. “I remember being so tired from climbing.” He laughs.

Yuuri tries not to stare, but he can't help it. Viktor is, without question, very beautiful. This, Yuuri knows. But there's something breathtaking about Viktor standing here, tangible and real, staring out at the sunset that gilds his hair while the volcanic ash falls quietly around him like snow.

“Yeah,” Yuuri eventually manages. “You came during your journey, right? For the gym.”

Viktor nods. “The last gym leader specialized in fire types, if I remember correctly,” he says.

“Yuuko’s aunt,” Yuuri says. “But ever since she retired, the gym’s been closed. It’ll reopen soon, though—Yuuko’s taking the exam next month, and it’s practically a given that she’ll pass. She’s into fire-types too—her first Pokémon was a Numel, I think.”

“Yeah?” Viktor says, sounding pleased. “I’ve got to ask her for a battle sometime, then.”

Yuuri stifles a laugh. In a battle against Viktor, Yuuko would probably faint before she could even send out her first Pokémon. “Yeah,” he says, smiling. “Go for it.”

They reach the top of the Jagged Pass just as the sun dips below the horizon, the radiant orange-pink sky giving way softly to the soft blue-black of evening. Yuuri loves this spot—he can see the small, warm lights of Lavaridge glowing in the distance, but also the wide, wide world, stretching out to the horizon. He’d spent hours here as a child with Vicchan, imagining the adventures he was still yet to have, the people he’d meet, the places he’d see—

“What are you thinking about, Yuuri?” Viktor’s voice is gentle, but it snaps Yuuri out of his reverie.

Yuuri almost jumps. “W-what?”

“You were sighing,” Viktor says, a little concerned. “And a little zoned out.”

“Was I?” Yuuri says absently, and sits down on a boulder, hugging his knees to his chest. Viktor joins him, close enough to touch, and Yuuri swallows. Vaguely, he wonders if he’ll ever be able to get used to this strange intimacy.

“Something on your mind?” Viktor asks. “Not to be nosy,” he adds hurriedly. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

Yuuri laughs a little—the evening makes him a little bolder. “Just thinking,” he says. He turns to look at Viktor directly, a little thrill running through him at their closeness. “You’ve been outside of Hoenn, right?”

Viktor hums. “Unova and Kalos,” he says. “And Alola, too, when I was younger.”

“Do you mind—” Yuuri clears his throat. “Do you mind telling me about them?”

“Not at all,” Viktor says, beaming. “Where do you want to hear about?”

“Well, I’ve been to Unova,” Yuuri says, “so Kalos first, maybe.” His eyes widen. “Is that where you got your haircut?”

Viktor laughs, and he talks—about cities so large and confusing that he’d gotten lost for wandering for a good half an hour, about the legends of an ultimate weapon, about the Battle Chateau where he’d had a decent battle for the first time in months, about his friend Christophe Giacometti who’d almost gotten them kicked out of an astoundingly expensive restaurant—

“Chris?” Yuuri says, surprised. “I know Chris!”

“Do you?” Viktor asks, a little dryly.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, a little uncomfortable with the sudden intensity of Viktor’s gaze. “I met him in Unova—he was Professor Cialdini’s student once, wasn’t he? We went to parties together—he had a Florges, I think?”

Viktor smiles. “That’s the one!”

“He was pretty, uh—intense,” Yuuri says, smiling a little. “But he was nice.”

“He certainly is,” Viktor says, strange smile still curling at the corners of his mouth. “So, Yuuri, how was your trip to Unova? You went last year, right?”

“Well,” Yuuri says, a little taken aback at the sudden change of subject, “Minako recommended me for this summer research job, and the pay was good enough to cover the travel costs and stuff, so I went to help Professor Cialdini with his study on hidden abilities.”

“And how was that?” Viktor asks, fingers drumming on his thigh.

“Interesting,” Yuuri says. “I can show you the results sometime, but to be honest, what I remember the most is just getting so drunk every weekend I could barely remember my name.”

Viktor makes a weird choking noise. “Sorry,” he says. “Inhaled some ash. Keep going. How’d you meet Chris?”

“At the lab,” Yuuri says. “He was talking to Celestino, and I complimented his Pokémon—it looked really strong, so we just started talking. And then we started going to parties together, for some reason. He introduced me to his friends—one of them was a gym leader who had like a music club as a gym—”

“Leo,” Viktor says.

“Yeah!” Yuuri says, surprised. “You know him?”

“I know him,” Viktor says, looking out into the distance. “Cool guy.”

Yuuri hums in assent. “Unova was fun,” he says. “Scary, but fun.”

“Sure sounds great,” Viktor says wistfully.

“Your turn,” Yuuri says. “What’s Alola like?”

They talk until the Zubat begin to flutter about in the darkened sky and the stars begin to shine, bright and gentle in the soft spring night.

 

Monday dawns clear and warm, and Yuuri starts the day off with writing up a report. Well, that's what he's supposed to be doing, anyways.

“Viktor Nikiforov did _what_?” Phichit half-shouts.

“Phichit!” Yuuri whispers, looking over his shoulder. “Quiet down.”

Phichit lowers his voice a little, but his eyes are still alight with the terrifying kind of fervour that usually accompanies his use of social media. “Yuuri,” Phichit says, “that's basically a date. You know that, right? You're a freaking genius. You’ve gotta know that.”

“Well—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Phichit says, exasperated. “Baby,” he says into his coat pocket, making the Dedenne poke its head out curiously, “come bite Yuuri for me.”

Yuuri laughs a little, stretches out a hand so that the Pokémon can scurry onto his palm and promptly curl up comfortably. “Hi there,” he says gently. “Where are your brothers?”

Phichit sighs. “They all like you too much,” he says, putting the Dedenne back in his pocket, then grabs Yuuri’s other hand and bites it.

“Ow!” Yuuri says, jerking his hand back to examine the impressive bite mark on his palm. “The hell, Phichit?”

“She wasn't gonna bite you,” Phichit says, shrugging. “So I did. Listen, Yuuri,” he says, and he’s talking fast again, “even if it wasn't strictly speaking a date, he definitely flirted with you. He's touchy-feely. He’s _interested_ , Yuuri.”

Yuuri waves him off. “He's just that kind of person,” he says. “God, you're just like Takeshi and Yuuko. Can't you give it a rest?” He turns back to his computer. “Now, I've got reports to write, and you apparently have graphs to make on the relationship between Zigzagoon distribution and berry plant growth.”

“Hey, you two!” Minako’s voice rings out from the front of the lab. “If I come over there and find out that you're talking about something other than Zigzagoon, I will personally give the newbies your full-time jobs and put you back out there on Magikarp duty. Are we clear?”

“Awesome,” Guang-Hong says, without looking up from his microscope.

“I hate Magikarp duty,” Seung-gil says impassively, lying spread-eagled across the floor.

“Hey, what the hell?” Phichit says, scandalized. “You're not doing anything, either!”

“It's too early,” says Seung-gil, turning away from him. “And this floor reminds me of my family.”

“Well, I have absolutely nothing to say to that,” Phichit says, then turns back to Yuuri. “We are not done here, Yuuri.”

“Minako made quite clear that we were,” Yuuri says, half-smiling. “Or do you secretly enjoy Magikarp duty?”

“I'm watching you,” Phichit says while making his way back to his desk, eyes narrowed.

“You do that,” Yuuri says. “Whatever floats your boat, Phichit.”

There are a few minutes of blissful silence until someone knocks on the lab door.

“I already have insurance and a newspaper subscription!” Minako yells as Minami scampers towards the door. “And if you're that guy selling Slowpoke tails, you better check yourself, because I _know_ I've seen them for cheaper in Johto—”

Minami opens the door, and it sounds a little like he’s starting to hyperventilate.

“Oh, uh,” the person at the door says, and Yuuri’s heart drops, because he knows that voice—has known it for a few days by now, “I'm looking for Yuuri? He forgot his lunch.”

There's a long silence. Everyone seems to be staring at the doorway—even Guang-Hong has looked up from his microscope. Yuuri doesn't even dare turn around in his chair.

“Fuck me sideways,” Phichit whispers, then grabs Yuuri’s arm in one smooth motion and runs to the door. “Here he is,” he says to a bemused Viktor. “I'm Phichit. Nice to meet you. You're even better-looking in real life than I’d thought you'd be, and I have to say that your Ninetales is _gorgeous_.”

To Viktor’s credit, he takes it in stride pretty well. “Thank you, Phichit. It’s nice to meet you too,” he says politely, then turns to Yuuri, holding out the parcel. “Your mom was going to send it here, but I wanted to see you anyways, so I volunteered. I hope you don't mind.”

“Trust me.” Minako makes her way to the door, grinning devilishly with a glint in her eyes that tells Yuuri that she's figured everything out. “I've known this kid for a while, and he most definitely does _not_ mind.”

“Thank you, Viktor,” Yuuri says, feeling his face heat up like an unholy hybrid between an oven and Mount Chimney. “Please feel free to pretend these people don't exist.”

“Oh, you'd like to be alone with each other, wouldn't you?” Phichit says, and his smile is way too wide for Yuuri’s liking. “Can't blame you. Anyways, here's my business card.” Viktor takes it, a little bewildered, undoubtedly caught up in the human storm that is Phichit Chulanont. “We should start getting to know each other better, don't you think? Since I'm your future best-friend-in-law and all.”

“My what?” Viktor says, and Yuuri wants to sink into the floor.

“Best-friend-in-law?” Phichit says. “You know, when people get married—”

“Thank you, Phichit,” Yuuri says, almost frantic. “Please leave.”

“After all I've done for you!” Phichit gasps in mock affront. “Yuuri, come _on_ —”

“Alright, Phichit,” Minako says, “that's enough. Yuuri looks like he's gonna pass out. Get back to work and leave them alone.”

“Fine,” Phichit says, still grinning. “See you, Viktor! You're a beautiful man! And you,” he says, winking at a Maccachin, “are an exquisite Pokémon.”

Maccachin barks happily.

“Five minutes of privacy,” Minako says to Yuuri, pushing him outside. “Then it's back to work.”

The door closes, and Yuuri stands on the front steps, fairly speechless and feeling mortified. “I am so sorry,” he finally says. “They just all assumed—” He shakes his head. “It's just that I, uh—admired you a lot as a kid. So I guess it's not unreasonable that they took it the wrong way? But really, I'm sorry—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, and he's actually smiling, gentle and real. There's a pale, endearing blush on his cheeks. “Stop apologizing. I'm flattered.”

Maccachin noses at Yuuri’s hand. Yuuri blinks. “You are?” he asks quietly.

“Of course,” Viktor says. “Anyone would be.”

Yuuri crouches down, buries his face in Maccachin’s fur. “God,” he says. “I'm so embarrassed. I wanted to die.”

“Aww, Yuuri,” Viktor says, amused. “You're cute.”

“Stop it,” Yuuri groans.

Viktor laughs, a sweet sound. “Yuuri, look at me.”

With a great effort, Yuuri does, arms still around Maccachin’s neck.

“Well,” Viktor says, almost sounding _nervous_ , which is impossible, “I was just wondering if you’d mind flying home with me today, since I've got some—uh, errands to run in Petalburg, anyways.”

“Oh,” says Yuuri, and for a second he almost lets himself think about the implications of what Viktor is asking. “Oh, sure. I get off at around six, so—”

“Great,” Viktor says, grinning. “I'll meet you here.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, a little breathless. He stands up, giving Maccachin a pat on the head.

“By the way,” Viktor says, looking past Yuuri’s shoulder, “your coworkers are all staring at us.”

Yuuri whips around, and sure enough, Phichit, Minako, Minami, Guang-Hong, and even Seung-gil are ogling at them from behind the window. Minami squeaks and dives towards the floor. Phichit grins and winks, and Yuuri resists the urge to flip him the bird.

“Well, it's been five minutes, so I'm gonna go back inside and beat Phichit’s ass,” he says.

Viktor laughs. “Don't hit him too hard,” he says, and winks. “That's my future best-friend-in-law, remember?”

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, more to himself than anything. “Bye, Viktor.”

“I'll see you later, Yuuri!” Viktor calls, laughing.

Yuuri dashes into the lab and grabs Phichit by the lab coat just as he's about to escape. “Goddammit, Phichit, stay still and let me kick your ass into oblivion—”

Phichit is wheezing. “Your face!” he manages through gales of laughter. “His face! ‘Best-friend-in-law,’ oh my god—that was good, I've wanted to use that one for _years_ —”

“It really was,” Minako says, chuckling a little. “But playtime’s over, Phichit. Go work on your graphs.”

“Aww, Minako,” Phichit says. “Just another five minutes?”

“Magikarp duty,” Minako says. “And that's Professor Minako to you.”

Phichit sobers. “Fine.”

“Cheer up, kid,” Minako says, clapping Phichit on the back. “That Viktor boy is coming by again to pick Yuuri up after work. You can wait until then.”

“What?” Phichit says, overjoyed. “Yuuri!”

“I hate you all,” Yuuri says.

“Even me?” Minami says, lower lip beginning to tremble.

Yuuri sighs. “No, Minami,” he says. “Not you. Never you.”

“Oh, good,” Minami says, sighing in relief.

Yuuri turns back to his computer, doing his best to put the last fifteen minutes out of his mind and focusing on churning out the report. Everything goes well for around forty-five seconds. Yuuri feels rather than hears Phichit sneaking up behind him.

“Viktor Katsuki?” Phichit says thoughtfully. “Or Yuuri Nikiforov?”

Yuuri whips around and bites him.


	2. moxie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri finds out that wild Salamence aren't quite as frightening as emotional intimacy.

****Yuuri remembers vividly the first time he’d ever flown with Beautifly—it’d been a terrifying experience for both of them, but exhilarating too. They’d drifted all the way from Lavaridge to Mount Chimney, swaying perilously on every gust of wind, trying to avoid all the bird Pokémon in the vicinity. But despite several near-death experiences, they’d made it to the end, lighting down gently on the summit. Yuuri couldn’t have been more than ten back then.

Now, though, it’s a different story.

“Bet you can’t do a loop de loop!” Viktor calls from behind him, grinning and leaning leisurely on his Altaria’s neck. It’s evening, and they’re both heading home from Littleroot.

“Bet you I can,” Yuuri says, smiling back. “Come on, boy,” he tells his Beautifly, who chirps eagerly.

“Wait,” says Viktor a little frantically, “I was just joking! Don’t—”

Yuuri shifts his weight just a little, feels Beautifly’s body tensing with effort, and his world is turned upside down for an instant. Smoothly, everything goes right side up, and he ends up beside Viktor again.

“Too easy,” he says, a small smile on his face.

Viktor’s eyes are wide, shining. “What the hell? That’s amazing, Yuuri!”

Yuuri blushes, a little taken aback at the open praise. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he says. “Just a party trick I learned from Phichit.”

“I like Phichit,” Viktor says. “He’s funny.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “You two get on a little too well,” he says. Phichit had somehow snuck out fifteen minutes before work ended without anyone noticing and struck up a conversation with Viktor, who’d been waiting outside. “What were you guys even talking about?”

“Oh?” Viktor’s eyes sparkle. “You jealous?”

“Very much so,” Yuuri says, deadpan.

Viktor laughs. “Good.” And then, “We were talking about you, of course.”

“What?” Yuuri says, blinking. “Me? I thought he was just asking for your autograph.”

“I mean, he did,” Viktor says. “And we took selfies. But it was about you, mostly.” He grins. “He told me quite a lot about you.”

Yuuri sighs. “Of course he did,” he says.

“Only good things,” Viktor reassures him.

“That doesn’t make me any less worried,” Yuuri says dryly.

“He also told me to take you out on a date,” Viktor says, voice just on the edge of teasing.

Yuuri chokes on his own spit.

Viktor chuckles. “Relax, Yuuri,” he says gently. “It’s just a joke. Your reaction is a little hurtful, though.”

“Sorry,” Yuuri mumbles, face burning. “Sorry. Can we talk about something else, please?”

“We can do that,” Viktor says. “Or we can race. Your call.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, perking up, “you’re on.”

“Last one back owes the winner a compliment,” Viktor calls, and then he’s gone, the Altaria leaving a trail of downy feathers in its wake.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Yuuri mutters, and Beautifly chirps in agreement, catching a gust of strong evening wind that sends them soaring exhilaratingly fast. The breeze whips at Yuuri’s hair, and he can’t help but laugh out loud. For a moment, there is nothing in the world but Beautifly’s familiar, warm presence at his back and the impossibly vast sky.

 

“Well, Yuuri?” Viktor says as he dismounts his Altaria, grinning and expectant. “I think you owe me something.”

“You had a head start,” Yuuri says stubbornly, running a hand through his windswept hair in an attempt to tame it.

Viktor presses a kiss to his Altaria’s beak, and the Pokémon coos lovingly in response. “Are you really so against complimenting me?” he asks playfully.

“Only because the race wasn’t fair,” Yuuri says, watching Beautifly flutter onto the roof of the house and perch there, basking in the last of the sun’s rays. He turns towards Viktor. “You know, I’d have thought that you of all people were tired of compliments.”

Viktor steps a little closer. “Depends on who they’re from, I guess,” he says, eyes bright.

There’s that flirtatious lilt to his voice again. At first, Yuuri hadn’t really known what to make of all the incessant flirting, but he’s gotten a little used to it now, has come to the conclusion that Viktor is just the type of person to flirt with anything that moves. It’s simultaneously more relaxing and almost—well, disappointing, but Yuuri won’t bring himself to admit it.

“Well, Maccachin is pretty,” Yuuri says, then heads towards the door. “How’s that for a compliment?”

 _“Yuuri_ _,”_ Viktor half-whines, “you know that’s not what I meant—”

“You just said compliment,” Yuuri says, amused. “You never told me to compliment you.”

“Well—” Viktor looks genuinely distressed. “I’m telling you now!”

“Too late,” says Yuuri, stepping inside. “Beat me fair and square next time.” He holds the door for a pouting Viktor.

“You’re going down, Katsuki Yuuri,” Viktor says. “I’ll get a compliment out of you before the week ends. A genuine one.”

“It really won’t be that hard,” Yuuri says, but he can’t help but smile.

 

Living with Viktor isn’t as jarring as one would think. Maybe it’s his natural charisma, the easy way he makes connections, but Viktor always seems to belong. It doesn’t hurt that he’s remarkably handsome as well, a fact that he seems to know and revel in. Despite Viktor’s occasional bluntness and whimsy, people like talking to him, like being with him, and Yuuri is no exception.

It’s funny, though, how the sentiment seems to be returned twofold. Viktor latches onto Yuuri the way a newly-hatched Torchic might, and Yuuri would know—he’s had firsthand experience, thanks to Minako’s breeding project from a few years ago. At first, it’s not all that noticeable on the outside: Viktor hanging out in Yuuri’s room after their occasional walks, swinging by the hot spring while Yuuri’s taking a soak, draping himself comfortably on Yuuri when he’s tired. Of course, Yuuri notices—his heart rate always skyrockets when Viktor is less than a foot away from him. But he bears it, tries not to shy away, because being close to someone like Viktor feels pretty nice, too. For whatever reason, Viktor’s decided that he enjoys Yuuri’s company for the time being, and Yuuri’s flattered, really.

“Whatever reason?” Phichit echoes one day at work, grinning devilishly. “Yuuri, it’s ‘cause you’re _fine_ _._ Like my great-aunt’s china collection.” He dips his feet into the water experimentally. “She’s a bit of a bitter old hag though, and that’s putting it lightly.”

“I smell like Magikarp,” Yuuri mutters. “I told you to be quieter! What if Minako actually gives the newbies our jobs?”

Phichit waves a hand dismissively. “You know she wouldn’t,” he says. “She loves you, and by extension, me. We’re indispensable.” He kicks up a spray of water. “So, tell me more about this hugging business—he just grabs you? Out of nowhere?”

“Basically,” Yuuri says, struggling with the gigantic Magikarp that’s flopping around enthusiastically on the dock. “Phichit, would you give me a hand? He won’t go back into the water.”

“He likes you too much!” Phichit says, grinning, and pulls out a camera seemingly out of nowhere. The flash is a little too bright, stunning both Yuuri and the Magikarp into a momentary stupor. “Katsuki Yuuri, everyone! Charming the pants off of oversized Magikarp and handsome Pokémon League Champions since day one.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri hisses, trying to place the overly affectionate Pokémon back into the lake.

“Got it,” Phichit says, singsong, and tosses a Poké Puff into the water. The Magikarp follows after it, wriggling out of Yuuri’s grasp and into the water with a splash that soaks both of them to the bone.

Phichit coughs, wipes the water out of his eyes. There’s a water weed of some sort in his hair. “God,” he croaks. “I forgot how awful Magikarp duty was.”

 

Despite a celebrity randomly dropping in on Lavaridge City like some kind of handsome, charming, and extremely flirtatious meteorite, life goes on. With the exception of Phichit, people stop gasping and asking for selfies when they see Viktor. He becomes a common sight in the hot springs, so much so that Yuuri doesn't necessarily feel the need to pass out every time Viktor’s not completely dressed. Also, Maccachin starts to sleep in Yuuri’s room more often than not, much to Viktor’s chagrin.

“I’m so lonely at night now,” he laments, draping himself over Yuuri’s back like an overgrown child. “Can't I just sleep with you too?”

“No,” Yuuri says, feeling his ears get a little warm. He doesn't look away from the computer screen.

“Why not?” Viktor whines.

“You know why,” Yuuri says, half-exasperated, half-incredulous.

“I've already told you,” Viktor says, “I don't kick in my sleep!”

“What?” says Yuuri, perplexed, turning to look at him.

“Okay,” Viktor says, “maybe I do. A bit. But hey, only when I’m lonely.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Do you have  _any_ boundaries, Viktor?"

“What?” Viktor asks, tilting his head in confusion.

“Never mind,” Yuuri says, turning back to the screen. “Just take Maccachin and go to bed.”

There's a short silence. Viktor doesn't make a move to leave.

Yuuri rubs his eyes. “Listen, Viktor,” he says. “On the whole, I respect you and enjoy your company, but I've got to finish both these reports by midnight, and I can probably count the number of hours I've slept in the last two days on one hand, so if you've got something to say, just say it.”

Viktor straightens up like he's been burned. “Sorry,” he says quickly, and Yuuri feels a quick twinge of guilt. “I-I’ve got nothing. I'll just, uh—go. Maccachin!”

With a wistful glance back at Yuuri’s bed, Maccachin trails out after Viktor.

Yuuri sighs, feels his pulse and brain function go back to normal, and keeps working away at the report.

 

“I'm sorry,” Yuuri says to Viktor the next morning. He's off today—Minako’s at a meeting discussing Feebas conservation efforts, so he finds himself helping Viktor groom his Pokémon.

“For what?” Viktor asks, working out a tangle in one of Maccachin’s tails.

“Last night,” Yuuri says, looking down at his hands. “I was rude.”

“Oh,” says Viktor, and chuckles, waves a hand dismissively. “That's nothing to apologize for. You were stressed, you had work to do, and I was being rather clingy.”

“Still,” Yuuri says, polishing the Starmie’s jewel, “could've been nicer about it.”

“No need,” Viktor says, a soft smile on his face. “You’re nice the rest of the time, so it evens out.” Then he grins. “And you were nice enough to give me not one, but _two_ compliments yesterday night. To my face.”

Yuuri frowns. “I—what?”

“You said you respected me!” Viktor says gleefully, shifting to brush Altaria’s wings with a strange fervour. “And that you enjoyed my company! Oh, Yuuri, thank you!”

“I did?” Yuuri says, bemused.

Viktor’s face falls, and he pouts. “You don’t remember?”

“No, I do,” Yuuri says, then shrugs. “Well, it’s true.” He raises an eyebrow. “Why are you so surprised? Did you think I hated you?”

Viktor’s smile is back in full, blinding force. “No,” he says pensively, “but for the first few days I didn’t really know what to make of you.” He laughs, positively exuberant. “Hey, Yuuri, are we friends now?”

Yuuri can’t help but grin a little. “Do you really have to ask?”

“I’d like to hear it from you,” Viktor says, eyes sparkling.

Yuuri sighs, but there’s a little flush of warm fondness that blossoms in his chest. “Yes, Viktor, we’re friends now.”

“Yes!” Viktor exclaims, and the next moment, Yuuri has the breath knocked out of him as Viktor fairly leaps onto him in a hug that might just prove fatal to Yuuri’s back. “Finally!”

“Viktor,” Yuuri groans, after fifteen seconds of agony, “I appreciate the gesture, but my back is killing me.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, a little sheepishly, “I’m sorry.” He sits up, helps Yuuri do the same. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Yuuri says. Hesitantly, he reaches, holds Viktor in a gentler hug. Viktor’s shirt is soft against his cheek, and he can hear the steady _thud-thud_ of his heart. “But—like this next time, okay?”

“Okay,” Viktor says, and he sounds a little breathless as he wraps his arms around Yuuri.

All in all, it’s a great hug. Yuuri’s brain might be short-circuiting a little, but it definitely ranks top ten in _Yuuri Katsuki’s List of Best Hugs_ , which is probably why they stay like that long enough for Mari to walk in on them.

“God,” she says disapprovingly, and Yuuri fairly _jumps_ , scurrying away from Viktor. “In front of the Pokémon? Come _on_ , guys, we’ve got roomy storage closets everywhere.” And then she’s gone, cackling as she walks away.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Yuuri calls frantically down the hallway, face burning. He turns back to Viktor, who’s got a tint of pink on his cheeks as well. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“No, it’s alright,” Viktor says. “Really, it’s kind of flattering that everyone—”

“Just assumes?” Yuuri says dryly.

“I—I don’t mind, is all I’m saying,” Viktor says, and there’s something unreadable in his gaze as he looks at Yuuri. “Do you?”

Yuuri’s heart flutters. There seems to be more to this question than what Viktor is asking, a veiled query. “It’s embarrassing,” he says quietly, hesitantly, and looks down at his hands. “But—but I’m flattered that you’re in the equation.”

“Ah,” says Viktor, and Yuuri can’t tell if that’s good or bad.

Maccachin trots up to him, claws click-clacking on the wooden floor, and Yuuri takes the opportunity to bury his flushed face into the cool, silky fur. There’s a sudden hiss, and Maccachin flinches, backing out of Yuuri’s grasp. It’s Delcatty, finally awake and impeccably groomed.

“Don’t be rude, Delcatty,” Yuuri says quietly, reaches out a hand. Delcatty purrs, rubs against him with the side of her face, then lays down primly next to Yuuri like a sentry. “Sorry,” he says to Viktor. “She’s a little—well, possessive.”

Viktor smiles, and much of the tension in the room seems to dissipate. “Can’t blame her,” he says, then stands up, stretches. A stray feather floats down from his hair. “Hey, Yuuri.”

“Yeah?” Yuuri says, looking up.

“You’ve got the day off, right?” Viktor says, grinning. He offers a hand to Yuuri, helps him to his feet. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“I don't know,” says Yuuri. “I was planning on doing some work today—”

“ _Yuu_ _ri_ ,” Viktor says, “do you ever do anything but work? Do you ever have _fun_?”

Yuuri’s suddenly reminded of Yuuko: _we just want you to have fun!_  “Work is fun,” he says defensively, trying not to think about Magikarp duty.

“That's it,” Viktor says decisively, “we’re going out.”

“What?” Yuuri says. “Wait—where?”

“Somewhere fun,” Viktor says, eyes bright. “I’ll race you there!” He’s out like a bullet, his Pokémon following after him like some kind of bizarre, dangerously fast parade.

“I don’t even know where we’re going!” Yuuri calls after him, bemused. He turns to Delcatty. “Do you know where we’re going?”

Delcatty meows, rolls over. _Belly rub._

Yuuri sighs. “Fine.”

 

 _Somewhere fun_ turns out to be anywhere in particular. They fly to Slateport first, which seems to be one of Viktor’s favourite cities.

“I love this place!” Viktor exclaims cheerily, returning Altaria to its Pokéball. “Come on, Yuuri, let’s go shopping!”

Yuuri doesn’t buy much, just watches, amused. On the other hand, Viktor seems to be desperate to have anything to throw his seemingly inexhaustible supply of money at. The stall owners are obviously a little starstruck, and Viktor rolls with it, glowing: “Yeah, it’s me! I came here for my journey once, I still remember you—ah, yes! This is my friend, Yuuri! He’s a brilliant researcher, works under Professor Minako, you know—”

Strangely, it’s not as bad as Yuuri expected it to be. People know Minako, some people remember him from when he came through years ago, and a few of them are genuinely interested about his research. So Yuuri finds himself striking up a conversation with a few customers and stall vendors while Viktor hunts for anything that catches his eye, and ends up giving half of it to Yuuri.

“This is for you,” he says, handing Yuuri a Skitty doll. “And this, and this—oh, this too—”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, overwhelmed, a pile of merchandise in his arms, “I can’t take all this, it’s your money—”

Viktor grins at him. “Yes, it is,” he says. “So I can do whatever I want with it.” He sobers up a little. “But if you _really_ don’t want it, I guess it won’t do to force you to keep it.”

Yuuri looks at him, and something in his chest twinges. The Skitty doll is cute anyways, and all the other stuff is useful. “No,” he says. “I’ll keep it. Thank you, Viktor.”

Viktor grins again. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go to the beach!”

 

Just like at the shopping stalls, people notice Viktor.

“Hey, Champion!” a guy calls from the beach, “care for a battle?”

Viktor smiles, seated leisurely on his Starmie in the water. “Only if you’ve beaten the Elite Four,” he says cheerily.

“Oh, come on,” the guy says. “Hey, how about this? If you beat me, I’ll give you six free bottles of soda. How’s that?”

“Hmm,” says Viktor. He turns to Yuuri, who’s watching the whole ordeal from Milotic’s back, amused. “You thirsty?”

“I could use a drink,” Yuuri says, a small smile on his face. Truthfully, he isn’t particularly thirsty, but he is more than excited at the prospect of watching Viktor battle.

“Okay,” Viktor says, and his Starmie carries him to shore. “Alright,” he calls to the guy, who grins triumphantly. “You get your battle.”

Of course, it’s not much of a competition—the guy’s Pokémon are decently levelled, but Viktor’s Starmie plows through them in a matter of minutes. Yuuri watches, entranced—the way Viktor battles is closer to art than true combat. It’s almost like a dance, the way his Starmie dodges and parries and attacks, the sunlight glinting off of its beautiful jewel. Viktor always seems to know what’s coming, predicting switch-ins and attacks like it’s second nature, and Yuuri can’t stop watching—he feels like he’s a kid again, watching Viktor go through the Pokémon League, battle after battle.

Viktor’s opponent takes the loss graciously, a little frustrated but delighted on the whole, and he strikes up a lighthearted conversation with Viktor on the use of items. Yuuri feels a little envious—it’s been so long since he’s battled that he’d forgotten the bond that comes with battling an opponent, forgotten how battling is a way of communication, not only between trainer amd Pokémon, but also between trainer and trainer. It’s a connection Yuuri doesn’t have, and it leaves him a little lonely at times.

There’s a small audience assembled around Viktor now, probably asking for a chance at a battle or a selfie. Yuuri leans on Milotic’s neck, laughs a little as a little girl obstinately holds out her beach ball for Viktor to sign. Eventually, Viktor extricates himself from the crowd, turning down any challenges apologetically, then hops back onto his Starmie and surfs back to where Yuuri is waiting.

“Here,” he says, holding out a bottle of soda.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says, and pops it open. It’s cold and sweet going down his throat, and he tries to give some to Milotic but the angle’s all funny so he ends up spilling a little of it into the water.

Viktor laughs. “Let me,” he says, and holds up the bottle to Milotic, who dips his head down so Viktor can tilt the bottle. “Good boy,” he says, and gives Milotic a pat on the neck.

“You’re amazing, Viktor,” Yuuri blurts out. “You battle beautifully.”

Viktor turns to him, a huge smile spreading across his face, and for a second, he looks almost abashed. “Thanks, Yuuri,” he says. Then his eyes widen.

Yuuri grins, realizing. “Oh, that’s another compliment, if you’re counting.” He laughs. “I’m rather generous today, aren’t I?’

“I like it,” Viktor says.

“Of course you do,” Yuuri says, and grins.

They stay in the water until Viktor touches a Tentacool with his foot and freaks out. Yuuri laughs way harder than he probably should.

 

After that, they fly around aimlessly, only landing to let their Pokémon rest. They go to Fortree, where Viktor almost walks into a Kecleon; Mossdeep, where Yuuri nerds out over the Space Centre and spends a good hour talking to Viktor about Deoxys; and Mauville, to eat and lose horrendously at the game corner.

It’s almost evening when they land in Lilycove. They manage to slip into the crowded Contest Hall to watch a Hyper Rank Beauty contest, and Yuuri has to blink, make sure he’s seeing properly, because—

“Is that Minami?” he asks incredulously, wiping off his glasses.

“Sure is,” a familiar voice says to his left.

Yuuri turns, only to see a grinning Phichit, astoundingly large camera in hand.

“Phichit!” he says, and he can’t help the smile spreading on his face.

“Hey, Yuuri!” Phichit says cheerily. “Hi, Viktor! How’s your date going?”

“It’s been fun,” Viktor says, not missing a beat.

Yuuri feels the blush coming before it hits him, full-force. “Phichit, _why_?”

“Why not?” Phichit says, grinning. And then, “Oh, they’re starting the secondary judging now, just a sec—” The shutter clicks, rapid-fire.

Yuuri cranes his neck to watch Minami and his Gorebyss execute a breathtaking Hydro Pump, and the crowd goes wild. He claps along, impressed despite getting a little soaked from the performance—who knew flighty Minami was so adept in front of an audience?

“He’s quite good,” Viktor notes brightly.

“He’s extraordinary,” Phichit says, still snapping photos, “considering that he’s only started a few months ago. And his Pokémon are absolutely _stunning_. Amazingly photogenic. Oh, that reminds me,” he says, lowering the camera. “Viktor, you’ve gotta let me take some pictures of your team sometime, okay?”

“Sure,” Viktor says, pleased. “Would you mind sending them to me after you’re done?”

“Will do,” Phichit says, then grins mischievously. “You know, Viktor, I’ve got a couple photos of Yuuri you might be interested in—”

“Oh, don’t you _dare_ ,” Yuuri says, spinning on the entirely too-happy Phichit.

“I am _very_ interested,” Viktor says, eyes bright.

“He’s _very_ interested,” Phichit parrots at Yuuri, and Yuuri groans. “Don’t worry,” he adds. “They’re beautiful. Even your mom said so.”

“That doesn’t reassure me a bit,” Yuuri mutters.

“Shush, you beautiful boy,” Phichit says, raising his camera again. “Give me a moment, the next round’s starting.”

Yuuri turns to Viktor. “We’re not friends anymore.”

Viktor grins. “Yes, we are. No takebacks.”

“Yes takebacks.”

“You respect me,” Viktor says, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “You enjoy my company—”

“I’m cutting you out of my life,” Yuuri says, looking pointedly at the stage. The last contestant seems to be having a little trouble with his Rapidash, which has bolted into the crowd upon being startled.

“Yuuuuuuuri,” Viktor says plaintively, wrapping his arms tightly around Yuuri. “You can’t run from me.”

“Yes, I can,” Yuuri says tonelessly. “I’ll run away from you, just like that Rapidash.”

That gets Viktor’s attention. “Oh my god,” Viktor says, a little in awe. “The judging table’s on fire.”

“You should’ve came here last time,” Phichit says gleefully. “Someone’s Exploud used Boomburst, and the windows all shattered.”

“Contests are horrifying,” Yuuri says, fascinated, watching as the trainer finally manages to rein in his Rapidash.

“That’s why I’m here!” Phichit chirps, and snaps another picture. “Oh, they’re starting the judging!”

The Rapidash’s trainer is, predictably, in last place. Yuuri waits with bated breath as the rest of the contestants are placed, and cheers when Minami comes in first.

“Master rank, here we come!” Phichit shouts, and waves furiously at Minami, who catches sight of them and hops off the stage, grinning widely and gesturing. “Oh, he’s saying we should wait outside.”

The three of them follow the crowd of spectators out of the Contest Hall, and within moments, Minami appears, ecstatic and flighty as ever.

“Hi, everyone!” he says, bright blush on his cheeks. “Thanks for watching!” His Gorebyss hums melodically, winding itself around his shoulders.

“That was wonderful,” Viktor says enthusiastically. “You have a lovely Pokémon.”

“You did great, Minami,” Yuuri adds earnestly.

Minami turns near-scarlet and sways a little, overwhelmed. “T-thank you!” he half-shouts. “I hope you had fun—”

“Relax, buddy,” Phichit says, holding him by the shoulder to steady him. “Here, look—I took some pictures. Wanna pick out your favourites at your house?”

“Oh!” Minami says, and grins. “Yeah, sure!”

“Well, then,” Phichit says, turning back to Yuuri and Viktor, “we’ll be going. Enjoy the rest of your day, and what not.” He winks. Of course he winks.

“Bye!” Minami says, fairly bouncing with excitement. Still grinning widely, he returns the Gorebyss to its Pokéball and sends out a Tropius, then clambers onto the Pokémon’s broad back, Phichit following after him. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Yuuri!” he calls, as the Tropius’ wings beat once, twice, and the two of them take off into the air with a mighty gust of wind.

Yuuri waves until they’re out of sight, then wanders over to a bench and plops down, exhausted. Viktor sits down beside close beside him, sighing contentedly. For a moment, neither of them break the silence in favour of looking out at the sea, shimmering and golden as the sun sets. There’s a sweet ocean breeze that rustles through the grass, and the Wingull circle lazily in the sky, calling out plaintively to each other. Yuuri absently thinks that he could stay here forever, watching the setting sun, listening to the soft lapping of waves on the shore, feeling Viktor’s familiar warmth at his side.

“Hey, Yuuri,” Viktor says, and his voice is a little softer than usual.

“Yeah?” Yuuri says.

“You know,” Viktor says, a little hesitant, “I made it seem like I wanted to take you out for you to have fun, but actually—well, I think I needed this a lot. It’s been forever since I’ve done this with anyone—I’ve pretty much alone travelled alone, so this—this was nice. Really nice. So, uh—thank you for coming along with me, and I’m sorry if I dragged you into this.”

Yuuri blinks. From what Viktor is saying, it almost sounds like he’s lonely, which can’t be possible—he’s Viktor, after all, and people know him and love him. But then an image starts to form in Yuuri’s mind: Viktor, setting out at the age of ten, nobody but his trusty team at his side, determined to go through every gym as fast as possible, to make history, to win, never stopping for long enough to make real friends or have rivals along the way. And then after that, Viktor, young and proud, sitting in the Champion’s Chamber, waiting for challengers he’ll only beat down, honing his skills against the Elite Four from dawn to dusk. Then finally, Viktor at eighteen, going out to see the world but having nobody to see it with. And Yuuri finally understands: despite everything, Viktor Nikiforov really _is_ lonely, and the thought makes Yuuri’s heart ache.

“You didn’t drag me into anything,” Yuuri says, meeting Viktor’s eyes. He smiles. “I had fun, really. So, thank you, Viktor. It’s nice to fool around once in awhile. Maybe we can do this again one day.”

“Oh,” Viktor says quietly, a small smile spreading over his face. “Yes, maybe we can.”

The sun dips below the horizon, and Yuuri gets to his feet, offering a hand to Viktor. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go home.”

 

Yuuri starts to see Viktor a little differently after that.

After all, loneliness is no stranger to Yuuri, either—he's always had trouble reaching out to people, keeping them by his side. It was worse when he was younger, when he was too weak and scared to stand up for himself, when all his friends seemed brighter and more interesting than he was. Yuuko had been a godsend, but then she’d gone home to take care of her ailing grandfather, and Yuuri’d been left to travel Hoenn alone. And when Vicchan had left—

Well, it had been terrible. Yuuri doesn't particularly look back at his preteen years with much fondness.

He thinks of the Viktor he’d seen on television, all those smiles, all that bravado, and wonders how much of it was real. Not much, probably. He seems happy enough in Lavaridge, though, and Yuuri wants him to stay that way. There's a strange sense of contentment and fulfillment that comes along with a happy Viktor, and it's not because Yuuri feels like he's being a particularly good person. It’s just there—a simple, inexplicable joy that’s quiet and nice and makes Yuuri laugh a little more than he usually would.

So, in the end, he ends up going out with Viktor more often, taking entire days just to wander casually around Hoenn. Though both of them have practically seen every nook and cranny of the region, Yuuri sometimes feels like he’s seeing everything for the first time when he’s with Viktor. It’s just not the same when Viktor’s beside him, chattering away about how he’d been ambushed by Trapinch, taking Yuuri’s hand and dragging him to buy decorations for his unbelievably lavish secret base, or maybe just sitting next to Yuuri quietly, watching the sky. Despite his talkative nature, Viktor’s a pretty good listener, so Yuuri feels himself open up just a little, telling the occasional story about his past, about what he likes and dislikes.

In turn, Yuuri starts to learn things about Viktor—how he loves Lavaridge’s famous Lava Cookies with a passion, how he’ll always brush down Altaria after riding it, how his real smiles can light up a whole room. Yuuri doesn’t take this for granted, though. He knows this—all of this—is a privilege, and there’s always the nagging thought at the back of his head that tells him it won’t last.

He’s thinking about Viktor’s frankly disturbing collection of cushions when Mari’s Chimecho calls gently, soft as windchimes, jolting him out of his reverie. Mari’s leaning on the doorframe, watching him with an amused expression on her face.t

“Maybe he just wants to be comfortable,” she says.

“What?” Yuuri asks, perplexed.

“You were talking out loud,” Mari says, stepping in. Her Chimecho drifts about in a lazy circle, making a tinkling sound of assent. “Something about why anyone would have more than two cushions per one square foot of space?”

“Oh,” says Yuuri, blushing a little, then looks around frantically in case Viktor had overheard. “Sorry.”

Mari laughs, settling down carefully on the bed, careful not to wake the drowsing Delcatty. “So you’re daydreaming about him now, huh?”

Yuuri shoots her a look. “I am not _daydreaming_ ,” he says loftily. “Wouldn’t you be curious if you saw someone whose secret base had enough cushions to satisfy a family of four?”

“Admittedly, yes,” Mari says, grinning. “But it’s still fun to tease you.”

Yuuri scoffs. “I’ve got Phichit already,” he says. “Please don’t make this worse.”

“No promises,” Mari says, reaching out a hand to play absently with her Chimecho’s tail. “But—hey, seeing as you’re going out so often these days—”

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri blurts out hurriedly, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. “I’ve been pretty irresponsible lately, haven’t I? I’ll put in some extra shifts at the PokéMart, or I can help out in the springs—”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mari says, holding up her hands. “Relax, Yuuri. I was just going to ask you to get me something the next time the department store in Lilycove has a sale.”

Yuuri blinks. “Oh,” he says.

“Yeah,” says Mari. “You don’t have to be so worried about money anymore, you know? It’s not like when we were kids—everything’s better now.” She ruffles Yuuri’s hair. “I’m glad you’re going out more. You work too much.”

“Not really,” Yuuri mumbles.

“No, you do,” Mari says. “Hell, I’ve got no idea why Viktor’s here of all places, but at any rate, I think it’s a good thing. It’s been awhile since you’ve been so—well, happy, you know?”

Yuuri’s taken aback for a moment. “It’s not like I was sad before he came,” he says.

“No,” Mari agrees. “You weren’t particularly sad. But you weren’t exactly happy either, were you?” She shrugs. “Anyways, if you see a Lapras Doll at Lilycove, you know what to do. I’m gonna go hang out with Yuuko for a bit—she’s practicing for her gym leader examination, and her aunt’s Torkoal is a good heater.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says. “I might drop by too.”

Mari gets up, makes her way out of the room. “Bring your cushion-crazed boyfriend,” she says. “Maybe he can give her some tips.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Yuuri calls down the hallway, half-mortified, half-exasperated.

“He will be if you play your cards right!” Mari calls back, laughing. “Heaven knows he’s already whipped enough—”

“I’m not buying your Lapras Doll anymore!” Yuuri shouts, then turns around to find himself face-to-face with a stunned Viktor, who has undoubtedly heard every single word of the exchange. “Oh, hi,” Yuuri says, a little breathless and screaming on the inside. “You wanna come to the gym with me later and pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”

Mari’s still laughing.

 

An hour or so later, Yuuri finds himself at the Lavaridge gym, sitting beside Mari and Takeshi and leaning comfortably against the Torkoal. Yuuko’s on the arena commanding her Rapidash, a light sweat breaking out on her brow.

“Good, good,” Viktor calls from the other side of the arena, his Altaria firing down attacks. “Use Rapidash’s speed to your advantage—the more attacks you can dodge, the longer you last, and the more chances you have to retaliate.”

“Hey,” Takeshi whispers, nudging Yuuri. “Is your sister asleep?”

Sure enough, Mari’s eyes are closed, and she’s snoring softly. Yuuri resists the urge to laugh.

“Yeah,” he whispers back.

“How?” Takeshi asks, incredulous. “Viktor Nikiforov’s battling right in front of her. People would kill for where she’s sitting.”

“Warm things make her fall asleep,” Yuuri explains. “And she’s not that interested in battling.”

Takeshi makes a weird kind of anguished sound.

When they’re done training, Yuuko thanks Viktor profusely, and Yuuri thinks she might be crying a little. Yuuri and Viktor take their leave soon after, letting Mari take her nap on the Torkoal (“She sleeps here all the time, anyways,” Yuuko says), and it’s a relief to step out into the cool evening air after the temperature of the gym rising perilously due to Yuuko’s fire attacks.

“That was nice of you to help Yuuko prep for her exam,” Yuuri says.

“It was fun,” Viktor says, a small smile on his face. “It’s been some time since I’ve battled like that.”

“Yuuko’s good, isn’t she?” Yuuri says, a hint of pride in his voice.

“She’ll make a great gym leader,” Viktor agrees.

They walk back in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company, and Yuuri realizes that he might just not be afraid of Viktor anymore.

 

Sometimes, Yuuri forgets the repercussions that come with treating Phichit like a human diary. Oftentimes, it’s a harmless thing to do, but with Phichit seeming to be on rather good terms with Viktor, it’s really starting to have consequences.

“You know,” Phichit is saying brightly, as they sit on the front steps of the lab as they eat their lunch, “Yuuri used to be scared of me when I first came to work here.”

Viktor covers his smile, but his eyes are shining. “Of you?”

Yuuri huffs. “He _was_ intimidating—”

“I was thirteen!” Phichit says, laughing. “And I was trying so hard to be your friend—I always wondered why you didn’t want anything to do with me—”

“You were so happy,” Yuuri says, shaking his head, “and loud.”

“Yeah, happy and loud is a definite no-no,” Phichit says to Viktor conspiratorially. “If you want him to approach you of his own volition, you’ve gotta be even more quiet than he is. Of course, if you do that, you run the risk of just not talking, ever, so—”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Yuuri says, exasperated. “We’re friends now, right? Whatever.”

“Yeah,” Phichit says, holding Yuuri in a sudden, tight hug. “Only because I grabbed onto you and never let go.” He grins at Viktor, starts to whisper again. “That’s the trick to catching him. Mob him, day and night. It’s the mere exposure effect.”

“If anyone does that,” Yuuri says tiredly, “I’m issuing a restraining order. Even for you, Viktor.”

“Understood,” Viktor says immediately, eyes wide.

“Oh, he’s so sweet,” Phichit says cheerfully. “Yuuri, keep this one, will you?”

Viktor lays his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Yeah, Yuuri,” he says, meeting Yuuri’s eyes, “keep me, won’t you?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes and blushes, but there’s a small smile quirking at the corners of his mouth. “Nobody’s kicking you out.”

Phichit’s watching them, eyes shining. “You know,” he says. “If you guys ever get married, you should adopt me.”

Yuuri swats his head. “Not a chance.”

“Are you talking about the marriage or the adoption?” Phichit asks, grinning.

Yuuri gently disentangles himself from both of them and makes a hasty retreat. “I’m just gonna go back inside,” he says. “I’ll see you later, Viktor.”

 

“I’m just saying,” Yuuri says afterwards, not looking away from the screen, “would it kill you to give me a break every so often? Maybe like—every other day?”

Phichit laughs, lays his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “It really would, Yuuri,” he says. “And then you’ll have to come to my funeral and make a speech.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Of course I will,” he says.

“Seriously though,” Phichit says, sitting up straight again, “I just—I just want this thing you’ve got with Viktor to go well, you know?”

Yuuri scoffs. “Thing?”

“You can deny it all you want,” Phichit says, shrugging, “but we all know there’s something there.”

Yuuri turns around to face him. “Why are you so keen on this?”

“Why aren’t you?” Phichit demands.

Yuuri blinks. “Because—well, because it’s Viktor,” he says. “And I’m me. It’s not quite—realistic, don’t you think?”

Phichit rolls his eyes. “Good god, Yuuri,” he says. “Do we need to get you some new glasses? You’re so—so damn blind.”

“Hey!” Minako yells out warningly from the front of the lab. “Phichit, Yuuri! You better be gossiping about habitats, you hear me?”

Phichit stands up. “Well,” he says, “I’ll get back to work. Stop sabotaging all your potential relationships, got it?” And then he promptly almost steps on a sleepy Seung-gil, who is, once again, lying on the floor. “The hell, dude?”

“I get tired after lunch,” Seung-gil murmurs. “And the floor reminds me of my—”

“Family?” Phichit finishes for him.

Seung-gil nods. “Yeah.”

“How the hell are you still getting paid?” Phichit asks, perplexed. “Do you ever do anything?”

“I look good,” Seung-gil says impassively, shrugging.

Yuuri doesn’t miss the once-over Phichit gives Seung-gil. “You sure do,” Phichit says approvingly, then offers him a hand. “Come on. You can help me with this data if you’re not going to do your own work.”

The two of them head off, Seung-gil sticking to Phichit like a burr. Yuuri’s left in a shocked stupor of sorts, wondering if he’d really just seen his best friend hit on their seemingly perpetually-dormant coworker. He probably did.

Well, Yuuri supposes, the world’s a funny place.

 

The days go on, and one day, Yuuri realizes that he really is happy.

Sometime during the summer, Yuuko passes her gym leader exam with flying colours, and even though she stops working at the Pokémart with Yuuri, it’s nice that she’s still nearby and ready for a chat anytime. Takeshi is a common visitor at the Lavaridge gym, bringing Yuuko’s lunch and keeping her company while she trains. Phichit enters a photography contest with his shot-in-a-million photo of a Wailord breaching off the coast of Mossdeep (“We’re going to lose that boy to photography one day,” Minako mutters ominously under her breath), and Minami manages to win a well-earned ribbon for the Hyper Rank beauty contest after a try or two. Yuuri’s mother always tries to turn down the frankly alarming amount of money that Viktor insists he pays for staying at the springs. Surprisingly, Mari’s Chimecho lays an egg at the daycare, and it soon becomes a common sight to see her toting it around like a precious orb.

And Viktor—well, he settles into Yuuri’s life like he was meant to be there. Yuuri starts to get used to seeing him first thing in the morning and lazing around with him after work, gets used to Viktor as a person—the casual intimacy, the characteristic quirkiness. If he’s off, they’ll go out and do whatever they feel like doing, provided that Yuuri finishes the majority of his work first. Yuuri brushes Maccachin’s fur if Viktor’s busy. Viktor brushes Delcatty’s. And—it’s fun, it really is. Viktor brings a brightness, a vivacity with him wherever he goes, one Yuuri didn’t realize he needed.

But even despite all that, there’s a little voice in his head that says, _don’t get too close_. Viktor, like all wonderful things, is not something that lasts—he’s ephemeral, someone to be made into a memory and looked back on fondly while saying,  _I knew him, you know_?

It’s not easy. Yuuri’s almost with Viktor more than he’s by himself. They’re at the height of their friendship, where their bond is easy and satisfying and there’s a lot of laughter. It’s the lovely point just after the phase of unfamiliarity and boundary setting, and it feels like they just can’t see enough of each other.

“Yuuri!” Phichit says one day, scandalized. “I like Viktor, but if he’s taking _my_ position, I _will_ tell Dedenne to electrocute him in his sleep.”

Yuuri smiles, wraps his arms around Phichit reassuringly. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’re still my best friend.”

“And I will be, forever,” Phichit says, eyes wide. “Right?”

“Yeah,” says Yuuri, amused. “Me too, yeah?”

Phichit hugs him back. “Definitely,” he says.

And it’s strange, how true that is. Viktor isn’t Yuuri’s best friend—that spot will always belong to Phichit. He’s something else entirely, something Yuuri doesn’t quite yet know how to define. In Yuuri’s mind, Viktor is just Viktor—the prodigy, the flirt, the boy who’ll listen to Yuuri talk with stars in his eyes.

Yuuri doesn’t even remember how they started sleeping in the same bed—like everything else, it feels like this is how it’s always been. At first, there’s a lot of teasing, but it dies down after a while—Yuuri assures his mother that all they do is sleep, really. It’s true.

 _Don’t get too close_ , the voice says. But this—it doesn’t feel so bad.

 

“Viktor,” Yuuri murmurs one night, “are you awake?”

He feels the bed shift as Viktor turns, and then they’re suddenly so close that he can count Viktor’s lashes. It almost takes his breath away. Yuuri’s gotten used to the hugging, the casual touching, but this is a whole different story altogether—the hush of night makes everything a little more intense, just on the edge of intimate.

“I thought you’d gone to sleep,” Viktor says quietly. He’s always a little more subdued at night—it reminds Yuuri of a flower closing its petals when the sun sets.

“I was just thinking,” Yuuri says, and hesitates.

Viktor reaches out, takes Yuuri’s hand gently. “Tell me,” he says.

Strangely, Viktor’s touch settles him. “You’re a champion,” Yuuri says, threading their fingers together. “You could go anywhere. Why did you come here, really?”

Viktor smiles like he knows a secret, looking down at their entwined hands. “Because I wanted to,” he says. He pauses a moment, then speaks again. “You know, when people compliment me, they always seem to slip in the word ‘talent’ somewhere in there. But it wasn’t talent that took me to the top of the Pokémon League.” He looks up, meets Yuuri’s eyes. “You were a trainer, too. You understand, don’t you, Yuuri?”

Yuuri nods. “Practice,” he says quietly.

“Years and years of practice,” Viktor says. “Did I like it?” He shrugs. “I don’t know. But at the time, it felt like that was all I had. Once I got a taste of being the best, I never wanted to be second again—I had to win. And I did. But I missed out on a lot of things for that title, and I’m trying to make up for it now, no matter what anyone says.” He smiles again, gently. “So that’s why I came here, I guess. To try to find things that are more important than winning. To learn how to live a little. And somebody once told me that Lavaridge is the best place for that, you see.”

“Oh,” says Yuuri. “I see.” And then, “I’m glad you came.” His face is warm, but it's fine because the dark hides his otherwise luminescent blush.

Viktor’s gaze is soft, fond, making a sweet thrill run through Yuuri’s body. “Thank you, Yuuri,” he says. “I’m glad I came, too.” His voice lowers. “I’m glad I met you.”

Yuuri doesn’t really know what to say to that. His panic must show in his face, because Viktor laughs.

“It’s late, Yuuri,” he says. “Go to sleep.”

 

It’s almost September when they get an unexpected visitor in the lab.

“Hey, check it out,” Phichit says, voice hushed. “It's Yuri from Littleroot.”

They're sitting next to each other, pretending to work. Yuuri peers out from behind his screen, and sure enough, there’s Yuri, pale bangs falling over his eye, wearing a flashy shirt emblazoned with a snarling Raikou. He's talking to Minako about something while his Absol sits quietly at his feet.

“Ah,” says Yuuri. “Angry Yuri.”

“He's gotten taller,” Guang Hong notes.

“And edgier,” Phichit says, giggling. “Look at that shirt.”

Guang Hong hums contemplatively. “The shirt’s not that edgy,” he says. “I think it's the Absol. Even my grandma would look edgy with an Absol, and she knits three pairs of socks a day.”

“You've got a point,” Yuuri says.

“I still think that shirt is pretty edgy,” Phichit says. Then he laughs. “Hey, Yuuri! Remember when Yuri came to get his Pokédex and he tried to have you exiled?”

Yuuri does. It’s an experience he’ll probably never forget. He’d been fourteen, teaching Phichit the ropes, and Yuri had stormed into the lab with his Absol and demanded a Pokédex for his journey, which he promptly received.

“Hi!” Yuuri’d said, smiling. “I’m Yuuri, and I’m just going to show you how the Dex works, alright?”

Yuri had stood there speechless for a moment, blushed, then promptly kicked Yuuri in the shins with all the strength his twelve-year-old body could muster. Yuuri almost crumpled.

“I know how it works, you idiot!” Yuri spat, cheeks still pink. “You—you—get the hell out of my hometown!”

Then he was gone, storming out the door with a new Treecko in his arms and the Absol loping after him, a Pokédex shoved haphazardly in his back pocket. Yuuri had been left wondering what the hell had just happened. Not one of his best days at the lab, that's for sure.

“I'm sure he still hates me,” Yuuri says, returning to the present with a ghostly pain in both shins.

“Should we go say hi?” Guang Hong asks. “Minami and I were dexholders, too.”

“You guys can go,” Yuuri says, looking back at his screen. “I like having my legs intact, so I’ll pass.”

“Looks like you don't have a choice,” Phichit says, under his breath. “He saw us looking at him, and he’s coming this way—”

Yuuri sighs inwardly, trying to avoid Yuri’s pointed gaze as he storms over, Absol striding lithely at his heels.

“The hell are you looking at?” Yuri snarls.

“It's nice to see you too, Yuri,” Yuuri says placidly, bracing himself. Yuri’s dropped by the lab enough times throughout the course of his journey for Yuuri to get used to the unapologetic hostility.

“Hi, Yuri!” Phichit says, sing-song. Guang Hong just sneaks away like a Wurmple sensing imminent danger.

“You’re still here, huh?” Yuri says, totally ignoring Phichit.

Yuuri sighs, takes off his glasses. “I work here, Yuri,” he says.

“You're a nerd,” Yuri says. “I could kick your ass at battling.”

“We have the same number of gym badges,” Yuuri points out, rubbing his glasses on his shirt.

“Screw you,” Yuri spits.

Phichit watches the whole exchange like it's a battle, gaze flicking from one Yuri to the other.

“I saw some of your battles on television, though,” Yuuri says. “You've gotten really good.” He reaches out an open hand to the Absol, who sniffs it tentatively. Upon recognizing Yuuri’s scent, the Pokémon rubs up against his fingers, and Yuuri scratches its cheek gently. “How's that Sceptile?”

Yuri’s face has turned an interesting shade of red. “I—that's none of your business.” He tosses his hair. “I'm training to go up against the Pokémon League now.”

“Cool,” says Yuuri, stroking Absol’s neck gently so that the Pokémon leans into his touch, eyes closed in bliss. “Good luck.”

“Won't need it,” Yuri says proudly. “I've got the best team in Hoenn, and everyone knows it.” His Absol starts to purr, warm and throaty, and Yuri frowns, slaps Yuuri’s hand away. “Stop with that Pokémon whisperer shit,” he says. “It’s creepy.”

“Hey!” Phichit says, frowning. “You're just jealous because you couldn't pull off that Pokémon whisperer shit if you tried—”

“It's okay, Phichit,” Yuuri says, putting his glasses back on. “Anyways, we’ve got work to do,” he says calmly, smiling. “It was nice seeing you, Yuri.”

Yuri makes a weird growling sound in the back of his throat, then storms away. His Absol lags behind, looking wistfully at Yuuri.

“Absol!” Yuri calls huffily, and the Pokémon bounds away to follow him.

“Why does he hate me so much?” Yuuri asks, after Yuri’s left. “The hell did I ever do to him?”

“Who knows?” Phichit says. He grins. “It's kinda funny, though.”

“For you, maybe,” Yuuri mutters. “You wouldn't be saying that if you were the one he almost put in a wheelchair.”

 

Strangely, Phichit’s never told Viktor about Yuuri’s rocky relationship with Yuri from Littleroot. Yuuri’s about halfway into his story when Viktor frowns, tilts his head.

“Wait,” he says. “Yuri? Yuri Plisetsky? That’s the Yuri from Littleroot you’re talking about?”

“Yeah, him,” Yuuri says. He laughs. “I almost forgot he had a last name. For us, he’s just Yuri from Littleroot, and I’m Yuuri from Lavaridge. My sister calls him Yurio when she sees him. Works just fine.” He glances curiously at Viktor. “You know him?”

“Know him?” Viktor says, amused. “I trained with him for half a year under Yakov. He was like—what, six? Sweeter than he is now, though. He had a Sneasel or something?”

“It’s an Absol,” Yuuri says, grinning. “Edgy, huh?”

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor says, nodding. “He was sweeter back then. Still pretty aggressive, though. Then I met him a few months ago, and it’s like—” He mimes an explosion. “I’ve never been kicked so hard in my life.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “Oh my god,” he says, grabbing Viktor’s hand. “Me, too.”

Viktor throws back his head and laughs. “I’m so glad we were able to bond through our shared trauma,” he says. “Anyways, your story makes so much more sense now.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Yuuri says. “He’s after your title. Training for the Pokémon League, that’s what he said.”

Viktor waves a hand dismissively. “He’s been after it even before I got my first gym badge.”

“So you’re ready, is what you’re saying?” Yuuri says, a teasing note in his voice.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, grinning. “I’ve had this title for seven years. But,” he adds. “You’re right. I should probably go back to Ever Grande for a week or two. Guess I’ll go call Yakov and see if there are any more challengers. They come in swarms, you know.”

“Well, I do now,” Yuuri says. He tosses a phone at Viktor. “Here.”

“Hey!” Viktor says, confused but pleased. “This is my phone!”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says. “You left it downstairs on the table, like you always do.”

Viktor leans over and pecks him on the forehead. “You’re the best,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri says, getting up and heading out to give Viktor some privacy.

Mari laughs when she sees him head down the hallway. “Hey,” she says. “What’re you blushing for?”

“Blushing?” Yuuri demands, perplexed, and places a hand to his face. It is, undeniably, very warm. “The hell?” He turns to Mari. “I actually don’t even know.”

Mari gives him a weird look. “If you’re sick, don’t go passing it onto me,” she says, and walks by him to go to her room.

It isn’t until he hears the sounds of an angry old man yelling over the phone that he suddenly realizes that _oh, something was definitely off about that_. _Definitely_.

Now, Yuuri has two options: one, think about it and pick what just happened apart to pieces like it’s some kind of literature he has to analyze, or two, pretend it never happened. He opts for the latter.

 

Viktor seems to favour that option as well, to Yuuri’s relief. Yuuri’s sitting outside on the front steps, trying to think about what to get for Yuuko’s next birthday when Viktor taps him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Viktor says, “I was looking for you. Were you out here the whole time?”

“Uh, yeah,” says Yuuri. “Nice night,” he adds weakly.

“It is,” Viktor says, and settles down next to him. “Anyways, once Yakov stopped yelling at me, he told me that I should probably go back for a few weeks next month, which is when the early challengers start coming in.”

“Oh,” says Yuuri, turning to look at him.

“But I’ll be back!” Viktor says hurriedly. “It’ll only be for one or two weeks.”

Yuuri smiles gently. “Okay,” he says. “Maybe we’ll give you a good send-off party.”

Viktor grins, stretches out his arms. “It’s not like I’m going away forever,” he says.

Yuuri shrugs. “It’ll be fun, though. And we can have another one when you get back.”

“Sounds good,” says Viktor. “I’m down.” He sighs, lays his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and looks out at the night. There aren’t as many clouds today, the stars shining down with a cold brilliance that blankets the sky. “You know,” he says, “sometimes I wish I could stay here forever.”

Yuuri stills. “Can’t you?” he asks quietly.

He feels Viktor laugh. “We’ll see.”

 

The next few weeks pass by in a blur. Before Yuuri realizes it, Viktor’s about to leave, and Yuuko is picking out alcohol from her family’s stash. Yuuri sighs.

“You do realize this is for less than twenty people, right?” he asks.

“Well, yeah,” Yuuko says pragmatically, “but there are quite a few people who can hold their alcohol within that group of less than twenty people.” She thrusts a bottle in Yuuri’s direction. “Here, hold this.”

Yuuri almost drops it, but regains his balance at the last moment. “Well, I guess—”

“Okay,” Yuuko says. “Let’s put this stuff downstairs.”

They’re doing this at Yuuko’s house, because her parents are out and rather lax about the whole partying thing, as long as they clean up afterwards.

“Say, Yuuri,” Yuuko says, “won’t you miss Viktor? Two weeks is a pretty long time, you know, what with you guys joined at the hip and what not.”

Yuuri shrugs. “I’ll be fine,” he says. “I mean, I’ve gone for a lot longer than two weeks before he came here.”

Yuuko rolls her eyes, setting down the bottles. “That’s _different_ , Yuuri!” she says, then picks up a Lava Cookie. “It’s like—imagine a life where you’ve never had Lava Cookies, okay? And you’re fine, because you don’t know what they taste like. But then once you do and you start loving them, you miss them if you can’t have any!”

“Viktor’s not a Lava Cookie,” Yuuri says stubbornly.

Viktor comes bounding into the room, all pre-party excitement and eagerness. “Did someone say Lava—”

Yuuko promptly stuffs the dessert into his mouth.

“Sure he isn’t,” Yuuko says dryly.

 

People start to trickle in half an hour later. Phichit flings himself at Yuuri in a hybrid of a hug and a tackle, while the rest of his friends opt to greet him verbally. Surprisingly, even Minako shows up.

“I heard you had alcohol,” she says.

“You heard right,” Yuuko says, directing her to the kitchen. And then, “For heaven’s sake, Viktor, slow down! That’s like half the bottle!”

“I’m fine!” Yuuri can hear the cheer in Viktor’s voice. “I’ve got good tolerance.”

“All the same,” Yuuko says dubiously. “Yuuri!” she calls. “Come be his self-restraint.”

Yuuri sighs and disentangles himself from an excited Phichit, who bounds into the kitchen as well. “Hey, champ!” he says, high-fiving Viktor.

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, “slow down. Have some water. You’re leaving tomorrow morning, remember?”

“Of course I do!” Viktor says, filling up a glass of water. “I’m not drunk yet.”

“Me neither,” Mari says, walking in. “I’m gonna do something about that. Hey, kid!”

“That’s Minami,” Yuuri tells her. Minami’s red-faced already, though Yuuri’s rather certain he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol. It’s probably just from sheer excitement.

“Oh,” Mari says. “Hey, kid! Pass me that bottle, will you?”

“Here,” Yuuko says, handing Yuuri a shot glass, which he looks at quizzically. “I’m not worried about you, so treat yourself. I’m gonna take care of the children. Takeshi!” she calls to the living room, where Takeshi is currently engaged in what looks like a staring contest with Seung-gil, who is actually sitting upright for once. “Help me take care of the kids!”

“What kids?” Takeshi calls back, not breaking eye contact.

“All of them!” Yuuko answers.

Yuuri downs his shot, grimacing at the taste. There’s a hand on his shoulder, and he turns to find Viktor smiling down at him.

“Let’s play something,” he says, eyes bright. “Let’s play a card game.”

 

Everything kind of blurs together after that. It’s not like Yuuri even drinks a lot—he knows better than that now—it’s more like the whole environment spurs him on, makes him a little giddy. Turns out that it isn’t a good idea to play card games with a Pokémon Champion and a gym leader who are both so competitive that they forget they’re playing a drinking game, not fighting for survival in a desolate environment.

“If I win this,” Viktor says, leaning on Yuuri and already rosy-cheeked, “I get to keep Yuuri.”

Phichit glares at him. “No, you don’t.”

“What?” Yuuri says, amused.

“You get to keep me too,” Viktor says, as if that clarifies anything. Minako snorts, takes another drink.

“It’s okay, Phichit,” Yuuko says triumphantly, laying down her last card. “Cause he just freakin’ _lost_.”

Viktor’s eyes are blazing. “Again,” he says.

Some really weird stuff happens that night. Takeshi loses the staring contest after around forty-five minutes, and Seung-gil takes a shot then goes right to sleep in front of the speakers (“The hell was in his drink? Is he okay?” Minako demands, kneeling by his head. “It’s just orange juice,” Phichit explains. “He’s tired.”). Yuuko and Viktor almost start fighting about battling strategies while clinging to either side of Yuuri (“Power over consistency, you absolute coward!”) Everyone except Seung-gil goes outside to ooh and aah at Minami’s team, all of which tower over him. Phichit goes around taking pictures of everyone, but that’s no surprise (“Put that damn camera away,” Minako begs. “Stay in the sciences, _please_.”).

It’s almost two in the morning when Yuuri comes back to his senses. Viktor’s leaving early the next morning, and he’s still trying to fight Yuuko, who’s physically being held back by Takeshi.

“Viktor,” he says, and Viktor whips around, a wild look on his face that melts into something like drunken contentment when he recognizes Yuuri.

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims joyously, then hugs Yuuri gently. “This is a good hug, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes,” Yuuri says. “Viktor, we have to go. You’re leaving early in the morning, remember?”

“Don’t wanna,” Viktor slurs against his neck. Yuuri can feel his breath, warm on his skin. “I wanna stay here forever.”

“I’m sorry, Viktor,” Yuuri says. “But you have to go, or you’ll hate yourself in the morning.” No response. “Come on, for me?”

Viktor looks up to meet his gaze. “Fine,” he says. Yuuri helps him to his feet, steadying him when he sways.

“We’re heading out,” he says.

“Bye!” Phichit says cheerily. “I’ll miss you, Viktor! Come back soon and make sure Yuuri isn’t so lonely!”

There’s another chorus of “Bye, Viktor”s, and Yuuko gets up to see them out.

“You’ll be okay walking him back?” she asks, seemingly a little more sober.

“We live close,” Yuuri says. “We’ll be fine. Thanks, Yuuko.”

“Anytime,” Yuuko says, smiling.

The walk home is short. Viktor’s pretty quiet through the whole thing, only making the occasional short sentence, something like _I like stars_. As silently as possible, Yuuri brings him to the nearest bedroom, which is Viktor’s. It’s dark, the moonlight filtering in through the window, but Yuuri can still see the room quite clearly. Viktor’s suitcase is packed, Pokéballs in a neat little row across the desk, but he’s left behind important things—some of his favourite clothes, the lamp he’d bought at Lilycove, and five of his cushions. It makes Yuuri’s heart feel kinda funny.

“We’re here,” he says to Viktor, who murmurs something unintelligible in response. “Come on, Viktor.”

Viktor straightens up, trying not to lean on him as much. “Yuuri,” he says hoarsely.

“I’m here,” Yuuri says reassuringly, keeping a firm grasp on his arm, just in case. “Don’t worry.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, and his eyes almost look tearful in the pale light, “I’m going to miss you.”

Yuuri cracks a smile. “It’ll only be two weeks, right?” he says. “I’m sure you’ll manage without me. Don’t worry.”

“No,” Viktor murmurs, sounding a little distressed. “Yuuri, I—I like you. I really like you.”

Yuuri blinks. “I like you too,” he says, confused. There’s a sweet sort of apprehension in the air that he doesn’t quite understand, but it’s making him uneasy, excited.

“No,” Viktor says again. “That’s not what I meant.” His eyes are wide, earnest, staring into Yuuri’s like he’s desperate. He takes a breath, tries again. “I think—I think I’m in love with you, Yuuri.”

And that’s all the warning Yuuri gets before Viktor Nikiforov kisses him. For someone so drunk, Viktor is admittedly a rather good kisser—it feels good, it really does, but Yuuri’s head is reeling and he can’t quite find it in himself to respond. When they break apart, they’re breathing rather hard, and Viktor’s eyes are sad.

“I’m sorry,” he says. With that, he lies down on the bed, wrapping the blanket around him until he’s completely covered.

Yuuri’s never been hit by a ton of bricks before, but this must feel rather similar. He can’t say anything, doesn’t know what to say, so he just stands in place and stares. When he finally speaks, his voice is so quiet it’s almost a whisper.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Viktor,” he says, and he flees.

 

The farewell the next day is rushed, a little awkward. Yuuri can tell in Viktor’s lingering gaze, in the hopeful way he greets Yuuri, then becomes closed off when Yuuri almost stutters out a good morning—he remembers everything.

Yuuri doesn’t know what to do. He’s so confused, his head and his heart a huge, roiling mess. Part of him really wishes that Viktor had done that like three weeks ago so they could sort it out, instead of being apart for two weeks to let it stew.

When Viktor leaves, Yuuri hugs him gently, trying to say what he can’t put in words.

"I’ll miss you,” he blurts out.

Finally, Viktor cracks a smile. “Bye, Yuuri,” he says. “I’ll be back.” Then he mounts the Altaria, and he’s gone, the Pokémon taking off into the sky. Its feathers are bluer than blue.

“You alright?” Mari asks, concerned.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri lies. “I’m fine.”

 

He thinks about it non-stop for about two days until he goes to Phichit and spills out his heart in a Pokémon Centre. Phichit nods, listens quietly—he never says _I told you so_ , never _why didn’t you do that_? It’s one of the reasons why Yuuri appreciates him so much.

“I just—” Yuuri runs his hands through his hair, feeling a little crazy. “I thought he was just like that to everyone. I didn’t know he wanted—”

Phichit nods, eyes warm and understanding. “And what do you want, Yuuri?” he asks. “That’s the important question, isn’t it?”

Yuuri sighs. “I don’t _know_ , Phichit,” he says. “I liked being friends with him.”

“Listen,” Phichit says. “Viktor’s going to be away for two weeks, right? You’ve got time to figure yourself out.” He smiles. “You know, my mom says that the best way to find out how much you need something is to go without it for a while. Maybe it’ll work for you, too.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, getting a little teary-eyed. “Have I ever told you that you’re the light of my life?”

Phichit grins. “Not enough.” He pulls Yuuri into a hug. “It’s okay, Yuuri. You’re a great guy, and so is Viktor. You’ll be fine. Both of you.”

Yuuri closes his eyes and lets himself believe it.

 

And so, Yuuri starts his two weeks of living Viktor-less.

The first few days are fine—a little quiet, but bearable. He talks with Phichit and his friends in the lab, hangs out with Yuuko at the gym and takes Mari to Lilycove. It’s when he gets to the weekend that something starts to feel weird.

“Hey,” he says to Phichit over the phone. “Are you doing anything?”

“Well,” Phichit says, “I’m heading out to Lilycove with Seung-gil later to take pictures of Minami’s contest. Wanna come?”

Yuuri does. Staying in on the weekend honestly seems like a foreign concept now. So he meets up with Phichit and Seung-gil at Lilycove, and they go shopping and watch Seung-gil beat a few trainers with his Swellow. It’s pretty fun. Yuuri didn’t know that Seung-gil was such a good battler.

But even as he watches Minami and his Aggron dominate the toughness contest, there’s something inside of him that feels a little hollow. He keeps thinking about what Viktor would say about the shattered windows—he’d probably laugh. Actually, he keeps thinking about Viktor in general, and while he’s dreading what might happen when they meet again, he also wants to see Viktor pretty damn badly, wants to listen to him laugh and fawn over his Pokémon and defend his terrifying cushion collection.

He’s standing in the middle of the enthusiastic crowd, watching the judges try to keep a Sharpedo under control when the realization hits him.

“Oh my god,” he says aloud. “Viktor _is_ a Lava Cookie.”

Seung-gil gives him a look. “The hell kind of pet name is that?”

“He’s a Lava Cookie,” Yuuri says again.

“Uh, Phichit?” Seung-gil says.

Phichit turns from his camera. “What’s up?”

“I think Yuuri’s broken.”

 

Realizing Viktor is a Lava Cookie is only half the battle. Yuuri lies in bed and really thinks—what does he feel for Viktor? There’s friendship, definitely—Viktor’s the type of person that Yuuri could be with for hours on end without getting tired. Physical attraction is a definite yes, as well—Viktor’s Viktor, and Yuuri’s only human, after all.

He tosses and turns, making Beautifly fly off onto the ceiling with a disgruntled chitter.

“Sorry,” Yuuri whispers. Beautifly ignores him pointedly, and Yuuri sighs.

He’s tired, so tired.

 

Just like something out of a movie, he dreams about Viktor that night. That’s nothing new—he dreams about Viktor pretty often, though it’s probably just because they see each other so much. But this dream—there’s something different about it, something warm and sweet at the edges, and Yuuri’s happy for some reason.

The sun is bright in the sky, and he’s sitting at the edge of the ocean in Lilycove, running along the beach.

“Hey!” Phichit’s voice calls. “Look, it’s a huge Lavacarp!”

“The hell is that?” Yuuri demands, looking around for Phichit. There is indeed a huge fish-like creature in the water, bobbing around lazily.

“It’s a Lava Cookie Magikarp, obviously!” Phichit says, and oh, of course—how did Yuuri not realize? Lavacarps are probably the most important Pokémon in the world, one of the only species that can be considered both seafood _and_ dessert—

“Hey, Yuuri,” someone says, and Yuuri turns. It’s Viktor, smiling bright and sweet.

Yuuri hugs him. “Hi, Viktor!” he says after they break apart, a little giddy. “Look, it’s a Lavacarp! We can eat tonight!”

“Oh, good!” Viktor says, grinning. His gaze is soft and fond, and something in Yuuri’s heart feels all melty and soft, like cheese. Melted cheese, actually, which would probably go pretty well with Lavacarp. “You look very happy, Yuuri.”

“I am!” Yuuri exclaims, “because—”

He almost says, _because there’s a Lavacarp_. But that’s not quite true, and it’s good to tell the truth, so—

“I’m happy,” Yuuri says quietly, “because you’re here.” He looks up at dream-Viktor, a little shocked. “I think I like you, Viktor. Like, _like_ like you.”

Dream-Viktor laughs, beautiful and bright, and when they kiss, Yuuri kisses back this time. It feels a little like heaven.

“See?” Phichit’s disembodied voice says. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Yes, it was!” Yuuri somehow says indignantly through the kiss, and that’s when he wakes up.

 

It’s still dark outside, but Yuuri feels like the sun is shining already.

“I like Viktor,” he whispers to the sleeping Delcatty, who flicks an ear and whines in her sleep.

“I like Viktor,” he says to Milotic’s Pokéball.

“I like Viktor,” he says to Beautifly, who is, unfortunately, a rather light sleeper. The Pokémon flutters around the room, annoyed, until it lights down on the farthest end of it.

“I like Viktor,” he says to Phichit, the next morning.

Phichit grins like he’s never been prouder.

“And uh, this might be a stupid question,” Yuuri says, “but do Lavacarp really exist?”

“The hell is that?” asks Phichit, perplexed.

“Never mind,” Yuuri says quickly. “Anyways, I guess—I guess I’ll just tell him when he gets back, then.” He takes a deep breath, a little daunted.

“Go get him,” Phichit says, and hugs Yuuri so tightly that he feels like something might’ve cracked.

He enjoys every moment of it.

 

The next few days go by so painfully slowly. Yuuri’ll work for four hours, and when he looks at the clock, it lies to him and says that it’s only been half an hour.

“Jeez, Yuuri,” Phichit says, laughing. “It’ll happen. Be patient.”

“I know,” Yuuri says, “I know.”

“So stop looking at the goddamn clock!” Phichit says.

Yuuri tries.  

 

When Yuuri’s a little overwhelmed, like he is now, he takes a long, long hike in Meteor Falls. There’s something about the unearthly beauty of the place that calms him down—it feels like he’s walking on another planet, where all his troubles are far, far away.

Viktor’s coming back today, and Yuuri’s trying to put words together to make sentences to figure out what to say. It’s rather hard, really. He kind of wishes he could’ve done what Viktor did—get roaring drunk and let the alcohol do the work for him.

“I don’t know what to say,” he says out loud. “I don’t know—” He turns the corner, finds himself face-to-face with a full-grown Salamence. “—what to say,” he finishes quietly.

It’s a good thing that Yuuri always remembers to bring Poké Puffs with him and that most Pokémon seem to like him, with the exception of Zigzagoon that are too attached to their held items. That’s how he finds himself sitting on the cave floor and feeding a Salamence by hand, letting it lick the icing off of his fingers while Milotic swims around in the clear cave water. He’s still a little terrified, but it’s dying down a little.

Yuuri strokes the Salamence’s head, and it rubs against him affectionately, nosing into his bag for another Poké Puff.

“You know,” he says conversationally to the Salamence, “I’m actually so scared right now, my pulse is twenty beats per minute higher than usual.” The Pokémon makes a low rumble of assent. “Yeah, really. And the thing is—I’m not even _that_ scared of you. I mean, I am scared, but I’m more scared of something else.” He’s rambling a little, now. Taking a deep breath, he gives the Salamence another Poké Puff.

“But you know what?” Yuuri says. “I—I’m feeding a wild Salamence right now. With my bare hands. You lot could _kill_ people.” The Salamence rumbles quietly. “I mean, I guess most Pokémon could, because we’re basically just hairless blobs with no self-defense mechanisms. But I guess if I can feed you without fainting, I guess I can do pretty much anything else.” He looks at the Salamence, which has laid its head in his lap. “Oh, what the hell,” he says. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”

The Salamence sighs contentedly. Yuuri lets out a breath and leans against the cave wall, suddenly tired. After all, the Salamence is warm, and the cave is actually surprisingly comfortable. _Just for a little while_ , he tells himself, and closes his eyes.

 

“Yuuri!”

There’s someone calling his name, shaking him gently. “Yuuri!”

Yuuri blinks. There’s something snowy-white in front of him, and he rubs his eyes to get a better look.

“Maccachin?” he says incredulously, and the Ninetales leaps on him, covering his face with wet kisses. Yuuri laughs—it’s been so long—but if Maccachin is here—

“Give him some space, Maccachin.”

Yuuri looks up, and his heart skips a beat. It’s Viktor, silver hair immaculate as ever, blue eyes just as beautiful. He’s smiling. “Mari said you’d be here,” he says, offering Yuuri a hand.

Yuuri takes it, lets Viktor pull him up. “I thought you’d arrive later,” he says, a little breathless.

“I left as early as I could,” Viktor says, and then he starts smiling for real, wide and unrestrained. He pulls Yuuri into a hug, which Yuuri happily returns. “Oh, Yuuri, I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Yuuri says, his heart dancing. “How were the challengers?” he asks, after they break apart.

“A couple good ones,” Viktor says. He winks. “But not good enough.”

“Guess I’ll still have to call you Champion, then,” Yuuri says.

“You do,” Viktor says proudly. “You do.”

“That sucks,” Yuuri says, grinning.

Viktor pouts. “Mean,” he says. And then he frowns. “I didn’t know you had a Salamence.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “I don’t. That was just a random—” He looks around. “Where’d he go?”

“Left when it saw us coming,” Viktor says, looking impressed.

“He was cute,” Yuuri says, walking to the water’s edge and returning Milotic to its Pokéball. “Come on,” he says, smiling. “Let’s go back.”

 

Yuuri doesn’t say anything about it for a week. He’s looked forward to Viktor’s return so much, but now that he’s back, it seems impossible to say it. Living with him is hard enough. It’s been a while since Yuuri’s liked someone, and it really is hard—Yuuri’s hyperaware of Viktor now, and it makes him jumpy, nervous. He can’t think about him without blushing at least a little, let alone touch him. His face must look sunburnt for a good part of the day. When it gets late and they’re both in Yuuri’s room, Yuuri’ll always say something like _you should probably go back to your room now_ , because if he shared a bed with Viktor, he’d probably never sleep. _I like Viktor_ , he keeps thinking, _and Viktor likes me_.

But he can’t live like this, so he steels himself on Sunday, waits until he’s alone with Viktor in his room.

“Viktor,” he says, “I have to tell you something.”

Viktor turns to him. “Oh,” he says, and he sounds serious. “I have to tell you something too.”

“Oh, okay,” Yuuri says, settling down beside him. “You go first, then.”

Viktor takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” He looks up, meeting Yuuri’s eyes. “I know I said that I was in love with you, that night. But—well, I’ve thought about it, and I don’t think I actually am.” A strange smile. “It’s probably just a crush from being together so often. I’ll be over it soon, so you shouldn’t stress about it so much—I know it makes you a little uncomfortable.”

Now this— _this_ feels more like a ton of bricks. Yuuri sits there, feeling his already-brittle heart crack in two, and his incapacitated brain tries furiously to come up with an appropriate response.

“Okay,” he manages. “That’s good.” He adds a smile, just for good measure.

“Yeah,” says Viktor brightly. “That’s all I had to say. What about you?”

“I, uh—” Yuuri tries to think. “I just wanted to say that I really missed you, and I hope you know that you’re a great friend.”

“Aww, Yuuri,” Viktor says, grinning. “I missed you too.”

Yuuri gets up. “I’m—uh, gonna go get some air.”

“Oh,” says Viktor, “I’ll come with you.”

And that’s just perfect. Yuuri heads out of the house, absently putting on his shoes.

“It’s a nice day,” he says.

“Yeah,” Viktor says. And then he squints at the sky. “Wait,” he says, “Is that a person?”

Yuuri couldn’t really care at the moment, but he takes off his glasses and cleans the lenses with his shirt anyways. It is a person, a person flying with a Crobat at their back, gliding towards them at a considerable speed. “It’s a guy with a Crobat,” Yuuri says.

“Crobat?” Viktor demands. “Oh, no—he actually came all the way here—”

Yuuri looks at him, a little curious despite the heartache. “Who?”

“Yuri,” Viktor says, “Yuri Plisetsky.”

The world is a funny place. Maybe that’s why Yuuri’s standing on his front steps with the guy he's in love with, who doesn’t actually love him anymore, watching Yuri from Littleroot light down on his mother’s garden not two minutes after having his heart broken. The Crobat wings at Yuri’s back make him look like some kind of tiny, emo devil.

In one smooth motion, Yuri from Littleroot returns his Crobat to its ball and brings out his Absol instead. He marches up to Viktor like a small, angry storm of a boy, totally disregarding Yuuri.

“You,” Yuri says, glaring up at Viktor like he’s been terribly wronged. “Teach me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should really be doing my homework.  
> anyways, I love the idea of tiny characters having huge Pokémon! as such, Minami's team consists of Blaziken, Gorebyss, Tropius, Aggron, Dodrio, and Dusknoir (honestly, I had no idea Dusknoir was so big: it's like 2.2 m tall and weighs 106.6 kg! That's a huge ghost. Kind of scary, if you think about it. Maybe kind of cuddly, too.).  
> So Minami has a Blaziken because he, Yuri, and Guang Hong were the three dexholders who were given starters. The main characters of another story, if you will.  
> 


	3. captivate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Yuuri adopts a Salamence, falls out of love, and right back in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean for this to be so long?

Yuuri’s dreams have always been rather vivid, and as such, there are times when Yuuri’s not sure if he’s actually awake or not. Like now, for instance.

In his defense, it’s a little jarring when an angry, small, sixteen-year-old prodigy drops in to visit out of the blue and starts a shouting match with the resident celebrity. There’s the heartbreak too, of course. Yuuri’s not exactly sure if he’s emotionally numb or just hasn’t come to his senses yet. Either way, he somehow winds up sitting down next to Yuri from Littleroot, who’s glaring daggers across the table at Viktor.

Yuri really does glare a lot. Then again, maybe that’s one of the only ways he can communicate: glaring, kicking, and short, aggressive sentences.

Viktor’s ignoring him pointedly, drumming his fingers on the ice pack covering his thigh and slipping Maccachin some treats out of his pocket. They go for a good five minutes like that, just the tense, quiet silence and all that staring. It reminds Yuuri a little of Delcatty and Maccachin after they have a spat. He sighs inwardly—it’s unbelievable that _he’s_ the one who has to do this when he’s literally had his heart hurled onto the ground and stomped thoroughly to pieces within the past hour.

Yuuri clears his throat. “So, uh,” he says, “anyone wanna say something? Maybe apologize?” He shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“No,” Yuri growls vehemently, and immediately springs to his feet, leaning over the table. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?” he snarls at Viktor, who turns, eyes blazing. “You know, I thought you couldn’t teach me because you were really busy, and that’s alright, that’s fair, but it turns out you’ve just been—doing _nothing_?”

Viktor sighs, rolling his eyes. “We’ve been over this already,” he says tiredly, “I forgot, alright? It’s what people do.”

“So you can teach me now, can’t you?” Yuri says, relentless.

Viktor blinks, taken aback. “Now?” he says.

“Yeah, now,” Yuri says. “It’s not like you’re doing anything.”

“Yuri,” Viktor says, frowning, “I honestly don’t know what you think I can do for you. I’ve seen you battle, you’ve pretty much got everything down—”

“I lost,” Yuri snarls, face twisted in distaste. “To that JJ bastard, of all people.”

Viktor shrugs. “You’re young. JJ’s got years of experience on you,” he says pragmatically. “Give it some time. You’ll get there.”

Yuri looks like he’s about to explode. “I don’t _want_ to give it some time,” he grits out. “That’s why I’m here. I want—I want to win, _now_.”

“Ah, I see,” Viktor says, a little sardonically. “You want me to give you all my tips and tricks, so you can come back and take my title.” He smiles amiably. “Makes sense. And what do _I_ get out of this, pray tell?”

“A good battle,” Yuri says, his eyes steely.

Viktor scoffs. “I used to _live_ with the Elite Four,” he says. “I can get a good battle _anywhere_ , Yuri.” He smiles that too-sweet smile again. “Well, it’s nice seeing you again. I’m sure you’ll do better next time.”

“No,” Yuri says adamantly, his gaze unblinking. “I’m staying here until you teach me.”

Viktor glances at Yuuri, who shrugs. “Fine,” he says, getting to his feet and slipping Maccachin the last treat. “Do what you want. But don’t forget to pay. Anyways, I’m going for a walk with Yuuri.”

Yuuri blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, right.” He turns to Yuri. “If you’re hungry, there’s some food in the fridge. The room on the right’s free for the moment, and you can just put the money on the kitchen counter.”

Yuri mumbles something under his breath, picks up his backpack and starts pulling wads of cash out of the side pocket.

 

“I think you should do it,” Yuuri says when they're outside. The shock has mostly worn off and now he's just starting to feel a strong urge to lock himself up in his room and cry into Delcatty’s fur. Even so, he's still rational enough to know that Viktor’s making a mistake.

Viktor nearly stops in his tracks, and turns looks at him perplexedly. “What?”

“You should do it,” Yuuri says again, running a hand through his hair. “Teach him, mentor him, whatever.”

Viktor huffs, disbelieving. “You want—you want me to take that angry bundle of teenage angst and take him under my wing?” He shakes his head. “Not a chance. First of all, I've got my own problems to handle. If he wants guidance, he can go to Rustboro’s Trainer School and learn about status effects like a normal kid.”

Yuuri gives him a look. “You know he's way past that,” he says.

Viktor runs a hand through his hair. “I know, I know,” he says. “Fine. He should go back to Yakov and they can have shouting matches until Yakov has to lie down.”

“I'm sure Yakov’s a great teacher,” Yuuri says, “but he's no Champion.”

“All the same—”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, “why are you so against this? It's just teaching.” He pauses. “Are you really afraid of losing your title to him?”

“No!” Viktor exclaims. “To hell with the title—I’ve had it for way too long, and everyone knows it. It's just—” He sighs. “You know me, Yuuri. I'm flighty, irresponsible—no, it's true,” he says, when Yuuri opens his mouth to protest. “Yakov used to tell me that my head was in the clouds too much, that I'm too proud to listen to what people have to say. And he's right.” A pause, Viktor meeting Yuuri’s eyes solemnly. “You really think I can teach Yuri without messing things up?”

“Yeah,” says Yuuri, “yeah, I do.” He smiles encouragingly. It just feels like baring his teeth. “You say all that about yourself—and I guess it is true, to some extent—but that didn't stop you from helping Yuuko out before her exam.”

“That's different,” Viktor protests.

“Is it, though?” Yuuri asks. “That's all Yuri wants, after all.”

Viktor opens his mouth, then closes it and frowns contemplatively. “Fine,” he says. “I'll do my best.”

Yuuri smiles tiredly. “It'll be good for you, to have a rival.”

“Whoa,” Viktor says, raising an eyebrow. “Who's talking rivals?”

Yuuri shrugs. “I know you were lying,” he says, trying not to sound dead inside. “I explicitly remember you saying that the last time you had a decent battle was against JJ, a year and a half ago. And Yuri made it up until JJ on his first try, which is actually kind of scary considering how strong you lot are. What'd they call you guys? Strongest Pokémon League in decades, or something like that?”

“Well,” Viktor says, trying to sound humble but looking rather pleased. “Maybe.”

“So I'm just saying,” Yuuri says, “you'll probably get more out of this than you expected.”

“Hopefully,” Viktor says, and then he tilts his head, quizzical. “Yuuri, are you okay? You're looking a little pale.”

Yuuri feels a sudden urge to burst into tears. “Oh, no,” he says, plastering a smile onto his face. “I'm just peachy. Anyways, are we done talking about this?”

Viktor looks even more confused now. “I guess? I mean, if you want—”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, sending out Beautifly. “I'm gonna go back now.”

“But we just left!” Viktor says, disappointed.

“Not feeling well,” Yuuri says. It's not a lie. “I'll see you, Viktor.”

“Yuuri, wait!” Viktor calls, but it's too late—Beautifly latches onto Yuuri’s shoulders, and then they're swooping into the too-bright sky.

 _Finally,_ Yuuri thinks, relieved and downright miserable at the same time. After a moment’s consideration, he tells Beautifly to head to Phichit’s house instead. Misery loves company, after all.

 

Yuuri’s actually pretty impressed with himself for keeping it together for so long, but the fact that the emotional breakdown is long overdue just makes it feel a little worse. At least Phichit is there, with a tub of ice cream and no Lava Cookies (“Oh god, _please_ get them away from me,” Yuuri begs, and Phichit promptly flings them out the window).

He doesn't actually cry that much—no violent sobbing or anything, just a slow, unrelenting trickle of tears. And that's how he knows that he really is sad, a deep, quiet kind of sadness that he hasn't felt for years. Beautifly perches on his shoulder, a little distressed himself. Delcatty purrs comfortingly and licks Yuuri’s face from time to time, though that may just be because she likes the taste of salt. Yuuri clutches Milotic’s Pokéball in one hand and Phichit’s Pachirisu in another. The Pachirisu seems perfectly content to nap against his chest.

Phichit is _furious_. “I cannot _believe_ him,” he says, pacing around the room. “I’m never talking to him again—”

“No, don't,” Yuuri says weakly, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. “It's not—it's not his fault he doesn't actually like me. I mean, it's not like he dumped me or anything.” He sighs, feeling his eyes well up again. “I guess I was just too hopeful.”

“Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit says, eyes soft and sad. He stops pacing to sit down next to Yuuri on the couch. “I'm so sorry.”

“Me too,” Yuuri says, looking at his hands. He laughs mirthlessly. “I can't believe I actually thought he might be serious about me. It's so stupid—I'm so damn stupid.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit says quietly, “you're not stupid for having feelings.”

“But look at him!” Yuuri protests. “He's—he's Viktor Nikiforov, and I'm just—”

Phichit puts a finger over Yuuri’s lips. “Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence, Yuuri.”

“But—”

“Yuuri, you are the most _marvellous_ creature I have ever known,” Phichit says fiercely. “I am going to give you a list of reasons why. Do not interrupt me.”

It's a long, long list, and sometimes, Yuuri even laughs through his tears. At the end of it, he's actually smiling a little. Phichit puts his arm around him, and Yuuri leans into the contact, sighing. He’s spent, tired, and currently doubting that he’ll ever love again. All the same, he's just a bit less miserable.

“Listen, Yuuri,” Phichit says softly. “I know you feel like crap right now, and you'll probably be feeling like crap for a while. But it's alright, you know?” He smiles. “It was just bad luck this time. It’ll get better, I promise. You'll find someone—someone who likes you as much as you like them, and you'll forget about Viktor in a few months, you got that?”

Yuuri sniffs. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

“Here,” Phichit says, picking up the Pichu that's sleeping on the floor and placing it in Yuuri’s lap. “More moral support.”

They stay like that for a while, just sitting close to each other. Yuuri takes deep, steadying breaths, and waits for his tears to dry.

 

Despite what most people think of him, Yuuri is a surprisingly good liar. It probably comes with being the shy kid who was picked on a little—he'd learned to act like nothing was wrong in front of his parents, not wanting them to worry more than they already did. It's come in useful at times, but Yuuri’s also discovered that he's rather adept at lying to himself as well. He doesn't know if that's a good thing or not, but it ends up being a part of his daily routine regardless. Usually, it’s just a constant stream of _I don’t like him, not at all, nope, he isn’t even that hot—_

“Who?” Yuri demands.

Yuuri blinks, looks up at him. “What?”

It's been a while since Yuri’s arrival, and he's strangely taken to lounging around in Yuuri’s room whenever Viktor’s not around, which, granted, isn't often, but it's still enough for them to develop a quiet, tentative friendship of sorts. Yuri would probably never admit it, but they get along rather well. Maybe it's because Yuuri doesn't pry, but something makes Yuri open up a little to him in a way that he doesn't with Viktor.

“You said something about someone not even being that hot,” Yuri says, managing to look displeased despite the beautiful weather and the fact that he's actually in a great mood. It took a few weeks, but Yuuri’s pretty good at picking up how Yuri feels now.

Yuuri racks his brain for an answer that won't tick Yuri off. _Aha_. “JJ,” he says.

Yuri grimaces. “I hate that guy,” he says darkly. “I hate him, I hate his stupid self-advertising, and I hate his Mega Salamence.”

“Hey,” says Yuuri placidly, turning back to his book, “Salamence aren't that bad.”

“Aren't they?” Yuri mutters.

“Anyways,” Yuuri says, “how's your training going? Pick up anything useful?” He flips a page gingerly. “I mean, I guess it can't be that bad if you haven't left already.”

“It's alright, I guess,” Yuri says under his breath, which is code for _it’s great._

“I'm glad to hear that,” Yuuri says, smiling softly.

Yuri gives a non-committal grunt.

They're quiet for a while, Yuuri becoming reabsorbed in his book. It's a rather engaging read about Hoenn’s legendary Pokémon, covering everything from their biology to the role they play in history and mythology. He's trying to calculate how many Delcatty can stack to make a Primal Groudon when he feels Yuri’s gaze on him.

Yuuri looks up, meeting his eyes. “Need something?” he asks. “Hungry?”

Yuri averts his gaze immediately, a pale blush on his cheeks. “No,” he says, a little aggressively. And then more quietly, “Sorry.”

Yuuri blinks. Some parts of Yuri he still can't quite figure out. “No worries,” he says lightly.

Viktor chooses that moment to waltz in, Maccachin trotting after him cheerfully. “Yurio!”

Yuri makes a growling sound in the back of his throat. “That's not my name—”

“Tell that to Mari,” Viktor says brightly. “Anyways, go get your bike. We’re going to Fallarbor.”

Yuri’s face twists in distaste. “My bike? I have a Crobat.”

“And I have an Altaria,” Viktor says. “That doesn't make physical fitness any less important!” He bounds over to Yuuri, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Wanna come, Yuuri?” His breath is distractingly warm on Yuuri’s skin, and Yuuri counts silently from one to ten in his head, repeating his trusty mantra.

“I’m busy,” he lies. “Gotta finish this book today. For work.”

Viktor’s face falls. “Oh,” he says, and pouts. “Fine. But we’re hanging out when I come back, okay?”

Yuuri smiles. “Sure.” He’s finding it a little hard to deny Viktor anything.

“Awesome,” Viktor says, grinning. He lets go of Yuuri, heads towards the door. “I’ll be waiting for you, Yurio!”

When he leaves, Yuri turns to Yuuri, eyes accusing. “That book’s not for work.”

Yuuri smiles, a little slyly. “No,” he says. “It’s not.”

“You just don’t want to bike all the way to Fallarbor, do you?”

“Can you blame me?”

Yuri sighs. “No.”

“I’ll see you when you get back,” Yuuri says, amused. “Work hard.”

“I do,” Yuri says, and leaves with a backwards glance.

Yuuri goes back to reading his book, sighing. Phichit was right—it is difficult. Something inside him still smarts painfully, and he does his best to distract himself with something, anything. Maybe that’s why he’s reading this book, doing meaningless calculations in his head (4.586 Delcatty per Primal Groudon, his brain supplies helpfully), but hey, it’s better than nothing. At least Viktor seems rather cheerful, and Yuri’s presence acts as a buffer, makes things a little easier.

 _Who knows?_ Yuuri thinks, in a sudden bout of optimism. Maybe this lying to himself thing might just work.

 

"I mean—he's good-looking, I guess," Yuuri says quietly. "Pretty hot. But I'm used to it by now."

He's sitting in Meteor Falls, the wild Salamence's head in his lap. His other Pokemon are frolicking about at the water's edge, stirring up splashes that Salamence blocks with a wide scarlet wing.

"And I only liked him because he told me he liked me first, you know," Yuuri continues, running a hand down the Salamence's neck. It makes a deep rumbling sound in its throat, pleased. "Yeah, you get me."

He slips the Salamence a couple more Poké Puffs, then gets to his feet and calls back his Pokémon.

"Thanks for listening," Yuuri tells it. "I'll see you next week."

 

Even though Yuuri doesn't ask questions, it doesn't mean he never wonders about Yuri from Littleroot. Despite everything that's been going on, Yuuri can't help but feel a little protective towards him. Everything about Yuri—his demeanour, his clothes, even his Pokémon team—all seem to be for the purpose of intimidation, of demanding respect. _I'm young_ , his glare says, _but don't you dare underestimate me._

It's a persona only enforced by adolescence, but at times, Yuuri admires him for his headstrong tenacity and fierce pride, things he wished he had more as a child. Other times, he gets a glimpse of something behind the prickly façade, a softer, gentler boy who'll curl up on Yuuri's bed next to Delcatty and Absol and fall asleep in the warmth of the sun, and it's times like those when Yuuri feels the most protective. Prodigy or not, Yuri's still just a teenager—rather rude, certainly, and more than a little crass—but a teenager nonetheless.

And then there's the way Yuri and his Pokémon interact. Yuuri doesn't doubt the bond between Yuri and his team, but there's a stilted, awkward air whenever they're not in battle. Yuri's strangely aloof with his Pokémon—not that he mistreats them in any way—in fact, he's the type to dash to the Pokémon Centre whenever any of his Pokémon's health is less than perfect. But frankly speaking, they lack affection. And to Yuuri, who spends at least a good portion of his day brushing Delcatty's fur while she purrs loud enough to hear in the next room, who sometimes has Beautifly as a dance partner when nobody's looking, who goes home sopping wet at lunch because Milotic had a sudden desire to make the best of a nearby pond, the entire concept of lacking affection is a foreign one. So, one day, he decides to push his limits just a bit.

"…and after applying same-type attack bonus, Knock Off gets a base power of ninety-seven and a half," Yuri mumbles under his breath, chewing on the cap of his pen, "and according to the Dex, Absol's attack stat is two hundred and eighteen, so after a Swords Dance—" He breaks off, looking a little unnerved, pale blush blooming on his face. "Am I doing this wrong? The hell are you staring at me for?"

Yuuri blinks. He hadn't meant to be so obvious. "No, no—"

"I know I'm not good at math, so if I'm doing something wrong, just tell me—"

"No, Yuri," Yuuri says hurriedly. "Relax! You're doing fine."

"Oh," Yuri says, then glares at him. "Then what are you looking at me like that for?"

Yuuri picks his words delicately. "I was just wondering," he says. "Do you—ah, do you play with your Pokémon, Yuri?"

The look on Yuri's face can only be described as a combination of disbelief and confusion. " _Play_?"

And that's pretty much as good an answer as any. "Never mind," Yuuri says, and he's about to turn back to the calculation when he notices the bracelet on Yuuri's wrist—not that he's never seen it before, but never so up close. He blinks. "Wait, is that a Key Stone?"

Yuri snatches his hand off the desk. "None of your business," he says, suddenly sullen.

"You can do Mega Evolution?" Yuuri says, impressed. Minako'd given him a Mega Bracelet when he'd beaten the eighth gym, but Yuuri hadn't had any Pokémon capable of Mega Evolution, so he'd just passed it on to Yuuko when she went back on her journey. "You should show me sometime! That's really—"

"Just because I have a Mega Bracelet doesn't mean I can Mega Evolve my Pokémon," Yuri says darkly, glaring daggers at the sheet of paper in front of them, and—oh, that must be a sore spot.

"Ah," Yuuri says. "Sorry."

"Whatever," Yuri says, flipping his hair in a manner that can only be defined as haughty. "I don't need Mega Evolution to win battles."

"I guess not," Yuuri says, and he doesn't press any further, instead turning to the paper again. "Anyways, if you set up with a Swords Dance, that doubles Absol's attack stat, so just multiply this by two. You've got the right idea."

"Yuuri!" It's Viktor, poking his head into the room. "Oh," he says cheerily, "am I interrupting you?"

"No, it's fine," Yuuri says. There's an unruly cowlick curling up from Viktor's bangs—he must've just woken up from a nap. Yuuri can't help but smile a little.

"Yes," says Yuri, sounding murderous.

"Oh, good," Viktor says, and comes in, settling down comfortably on the bed. "What are you guys doing?"

Yuri somehow makes a weird, animalistic snarling noise in the back of his throat that sounds eerily reminiscent of his Absol during battles.

 

"I don't know," Yuuri says, leaning back against the cavern wall. "I mean, I guess there are good trainers who just aren't _that_ close with their Pokémon, but it always feels like—that's not the way it should be, right? After everything you've been through together, it's just _weird_ to act like that."

The Salamence grins toothily up at him, and Yuuri feeds it another Poké Puff. Beautifly and Delcatty are curled up under one of its wings, taking advantage of the warmth while Milotic swims about cheerily in the falls.

"And it's not even that they dislike each other's company," Yuuri says. "It's like—they just don't know how to express affection." He sighs. "And Viktor is—well, Viktor. Kind of weird. Kind of hot. Not really. I'm recovering, I swear."

Delcatty makes a loud _mrow_ sound, as if in amusement.

"Oh, shut up," Yuuri says, offended. "Stop eavesdropping and go to sleep."

 

Of course, it all takes a while. Yuuri supposes this is a bit like muscle memory, doing something over and over again until it’s just instinct. And sometimes, if he doesn’t think too much, he can pretend that things have gone back to the way they were before.

It’s a few weeks after Yuri's arrival by the time the heartache dulls a bit. It becomes a little easier to breathe, and Yuuri tastes the sweetness of triumph in the back of his throat. _There,_ he thinks, satisfied, _I don’t like you, and you don’t like me_. Autumn's truly set in now, cool and wet, so Yuri and Viktor stay in more, poring over battle strategies and PokéDex entries. Yuuri watches them pick out TMs feverishly from a huge pile on the floor of his room, slightly amused.

“You better clean that up,” he tells them.

“Viktor will,” Yuri says without hesitation, and Viktor huffs, offended.

“Who do you think we’re even doing this for?” he demands. “You should be glad I’m even letting you borrow _my_ TMs. _Mine._ ”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuri mutters, sorting through them hurriedly.

“What are you looking for?” Yuuri asks, hopping down from his bed. “I’ll help.”

“Focus Blast,” Yuri replies.

Yuuri hides a grin. “Viktor’s sitting on it.”

“What?” Viktor says, looking around at his vicinity. “No, I’m not.”

Yuri turns, rolls his eyes. “Yes, you are. Get up.”

“Fine, fine,” Viktor says reluctantly, getting to his feet. “Oh,” he says, looking down at the TM, “my bad.”

Yuri snatches it up like it’s a treasure, then gives Viktor a look. “I can’t believe we wasted fifteen minutes looking for something you were sitting on.”

Viktor walks gingerly over to Yuuri, making sure not to step on anything. “When you’re older,” he says, unperturbed, “you’ll understand the merits of being patient.”

“Stop it,” Yuri says, not even looking up. “If I’m gonna take life lessons from anyone, I’d rather take them from Yuuri.”

Yuuri blinks, surprised, then puts a hand to his chest. “Awww, Yuri,” he says, starting to grin. “I’m touched—”

“Never mind,” Yuri says, glaring at him.

“I’m still touched!” Yuuri says cheerfully.

“And I’m offended,” Viktor says.

“I’m leaving,” says Yuri, and true to his word, speedwalks out of the room.

Yuuri laughs. “You know,” he says, settling down on his bed and lying on his back, “I never thought I’d say something like this, but I like Yuri from Littleroot. He’s kind of cute.”

Viktor lies down beside him, staring at the ceiling. “Cute?”

“Like the little brother I never had,” Yuuri says dreamily.

“Ah,” Viktor says, chuckling, “I see.” He flips over onto his stomach, looking down at Yuuri with lidded eyes. “What about me?” he asks, a suggestive lilt to his voice. “Am I cute?”

Yuuri blinks. _Yes,_ the old Yuuri says, _yes, you’re gorgeous, take me now_ , but he isn’t the old Yuuri anymore. New Yuuri is strong. New Yuuri knows how to manage his rapidly fading feelings. “Yeah,” Yuuri says, reaching out to ruffle Viktor’s hair, “you’re like the other little brother I never had.”

Viktor pouts, obviously displeased with the answer. “Yuuri, I’m older than you.”

“Act like it, then,” Yuuri says, grinning up at him. “Everyone knows you’re a kid at heart.” His pulse is only a bit higher than normal—he’s doing great.

Something in Viktor’s gaze turns dark. “Fine,” he says, voice low and smooth, and— _oh_ , there goes the pulse again. “You want me to act like an adult? I’ll act like an adult.”

Yuuri freezes. Oh, this is not supposed to be happening. Viktor’s face is so, so close, and Yuuri’s a strange combination of terrified and turned on. _ABORT MISSION!_ the voice in his head screams. _ABORT! RUN!_ He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Stop playing around, Viktor,” he says, voice surprisingly even.

Viktor blinks, seems to snap out of it. Then he grins. “Alright,” he says, good-naturedly. “I’ll have mercy on you for today. I’ll turn down the sex appeal. Dye my hair blue or something.”

Yuuri scoffs. “No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” Viktor agrees, laughing. “I’m too vain for that. Unless you told me I’d look good with blue hair,” he adds. “Then that’d be a different story.”

“You’d look good with blue hair,” Yuuri says, without hesitation. “Heck, forget blue. Go for orange.”

Viktor laughs. “Oh, shut up.” He rests his head on his arms, sighs contentedly.

It’s a comfortable silence. Yuuri’s rather proud of himself for dispelling the situation that had almost occurred. He feels like a patient on the way to recovery.

The door swings open again—it’s Yuri, looking as displeased as usual. He places the TM on the floor and walks up to the bed.

“I’m tired,” he says. “Scooch. No, the other way. I wanna sleep next to Yuuri.”

Viktor _tsk_ s, sounding annoyed.

“You know,” Yuuri says, as Yuri flops down beside him, “you both have your own beds, right? Unless you don’t, which means you should file a complaint and tell my mother like a normal paying customer would do instead of stealing mine.”

“Be quiet,” Yuri says, voice muffled by the pillow. “Sleep time.”

“Maybe I’ll issue a restraining order,” Yuuri says thoughtfully.

“Shh, Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, eyes bright with laughter. “You heard him. Be quiet.”

So Yuuri sighs and stays still, listening to Viktor’s breathing even out, letting Yuri hold on to him like he’s a cushion or something. At some point in time, Delcatty leaps onto the bed softly and curls up at their feet, though it’s kind of a mystery how they all manage to fit. Yuuri can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy it, though. It’s wonderfully warm, safe, and despite the autumn chill, he feels like he’s sleeping in a sunbeam.

 

"That was close," Yuuri tells Salamence later, but he's not sure if it hears him—it's a little busy trying to wrest a Poké Puff from an amused Milotic.

 

Yuuri starts going out with Viktor again, almost as often as they used to. Yuri comes along most of the time, despite his apparent dislike of spending time with them. Secretly, Yuuri's glad—being alone with Viktor for so long is a little risky, especially when everything is so fun, so bright. He catches himself almost falling again a couple times, and tries to avoid the beach at Lilycove (as well as alcohol) at all costs.

The thing is, Viktor's an easy person to fall in love with. When he laughs—and he laughs a lot these days—it's a bit like the sun coming out. He's funny, if in a naïve, childish sort of way, and downright hot when he's battling. He treats his Pokémon like they're his children. And he likes Yuuri, likes him oh-so-much—treats him like he's Viktor's favourite person in the world, and Yuuri tries not to let it get to his head, really, he tries, because Viktor is the type of guy to get bored of being Pokémon Champion, who'd gotten bored of Yuuri as a romantic prospect in "a couple of weeks."

Yuuri's weak for handsome Pokémon Champions, but this is a risk he's not willing to take, not again. So what if he ends up with a Salamence as a therapist? If it works, it works.

"I can't believe you'd pick a wild Salamence over me," Phichit says, offended. Yuuri can't really tell if he's serious or not.

"I'm sorry, Phichit," Yuuri says, putting on his lab coat. "I mean, it's not like I tell him anything you don't really know."

Phichit grins, dropping the façade. "I'm just kidding, Yuuri!" he says. "Kinda. But really, it's fine. Everyone needs their alone time, and you're just getting over a breakup, so you'll need a little more."

"Breakup?" Minami says, head turning so fast that Yuuri hears a little cracking sound. He winces. "What breakup? With Viktor Nikifo—"

"With alcohol," Phichit says hurriedly. "Don't do drugs, Minami. You'll die."

Minami blinks, wide-eyed and a little scared. "Okay," he says, and scampers off.

"You didn't have to scare him like that," Yuuri says, but he's trying not to smile. "And yeah, what breakup? We weren't dating, Phichit."

"Yeah, yeah," Phichit says. "Sorry. I always forget."

 

Yuuri's birthday comes and goes, leaving him a year older and a little anxious.

Eighteen really is rather old, he supposes. Yuuri's struck by a sudden, strange wistfulness—it's not that he feels extremely nostalgic for his childhood, but he's a little jarred by the quick passage of time. There's a small, flickering worry in his heart that he's stagnating, staying still while everyone and everything rushes past. Yuuri's essentially been doing the same thing since he was twelve, and for the first time in all these years, he wonders if he's going to be doing this forever. Yuuri enjoys working at the lab, really—likes the work, the people, learning and growing under Minako's guidance—but he can't help but admit that working there forever isn't something he wants to do.

All the same, it's a little hard to stay down when so many people are so determined to make the day a special one. His coworkers buy him a cake (some of which Phichit shoves onto his face) and his parents make him his favourite dinner. Yuuko and Takeshi come by with a gift of fifty Max Repels ("You can't ever have too many," Yuuko says sagely, and Yuri nods darkly, knowingly). Mari gives him a Shell Bell from Shoal Cave, and Yuri gifts him with a couple of Max Revives, face flushed and looking pointedly at his feet.

It's after dinner and cake when Viktor asks to go on a walk together. The evening is a little chilly, even with the sun still out—Yuuri's breath comes in white puffs, and Maccachin leaps around, more sprightly than usual in the cold.

"Sorry," Viktor says, sounding a little guilty. "I didn't know it was going to be so cold. I just wanted to give your gift to you in private."

"It's okay," Yuuri says. He casts a sideway glance at Viktor. "You didn't have to get me a gift, you know."

"I know," Viktor says, smiling. "Nobody else had to, either. We wanted to."

"Oh," Yuuri says, a little at a loss for words, "okay."

They're walking up Jagged Pass, the setting sun at their backs. The light gilds Viktor's hair with gold, casts the elegant lines of his face into relief, and Yuuri shakes himself: _no, no_.

"I think this should be fine for the sake of being overdramatic," Viktor says, when they reach the summit. He turns, looks out at the clear sky, the radiant sunset. "I love this place. Sometimes, when you're at work and Yuri's taking a break, I just come out here to think."

Yuuri feels a small smile tugging at his lips. It's a lovely picture, somewhat intimate—Viktor perched elegantly on a boulder, looking out at everything below, while Maccachin chases the wild Spoink playfully. "What do you think about?" he asks.

"You," Viktor says. "Maccachin. Yurio. The Pokémon League. Lava cookies. A lot of things." He turns to look at Yuuri, a soft, strange smile on his face.

"I used to come here too," Yuuri admits. "Stayed here for hours, just with my Vulpix. I wasn't a sociable kid." He lets out a breath. "But when I came here, I felt like I could do anything."

"I can see why," Viktor says quietly. And then, "You're bothered. What's bothering you, Yuuri?"

Yuuri blinks, a little taken aback. "I—I wouldn't say that I'm bothered," he says. "It's not that big of a deal."

"But something's on your mind," Viktor says.

Yuuri hesitates. "Well, yes."

Viktor settles down on a nearby boulder and pats the spot next to him.

Yuuri laughs a little. "I thought we came here so you could give me a present," he says, sitting down.

"I had multiple motives," Viktor says. "You seemed worried."

Yuuri sighs. Idly, he draws nonsense patterns on the rough stone under his fingers. "I guess I am," he says. "It's just that—well, eighteen is kind of a big thing, isn't it? And I feel like I haven't done anything special up until now, and there's a part of me that's scared I'll just stay like this forever, living in this town and working the same job until I die."

Viktor nods, his eyes never leaving Yuuri's face.

"And it's not that I don't like the way everything is now," Yuuri continues. "But the thought of staying the same—it scares me. And there isn't anything I can really do about it—I mean, I don't really know what I want to do, and I don't think there's much I can do besides what I'm doing right now." He sighs again. "So, there it is. My existential teenage angst, a few years late."

Viktor chuckles. "It's high quality angst, though," he says.

"I should hope so," Yuuri says, cracking a small smile.

Viktor lets out a breath. "Yuuri," he says. "I know that I'm pretty immature most of the time, but right now, I hope you hear me as someone older than you. You—you say that you haven't done anything special, but I think you've done quite a bit. First of all, you've gotten eight gym badges—that's not something a lot of people can say, and second of all, everything you've shown me—all that research, all that work—it's amazing, Yuuri. Maybe you've got higher standards than me, but from my perspective, I think that's really quite impressive." He goes on, smiling. "You're quite the extraordinary person, Yuuri, and you're the only one who doesn't see it that way. I'm willing to bet money that you're one of those people who can do whatever they set their mind to. Hell, you'd probably even be able to start a proper evil organization. Not that I'm encouraging you. But if you did, I'd join it."

Yuuri laughs, a warm bubbly feeling spreading through his body. "No, you wouldn't."

"I would!" Viktor insists. "Yuuri, you're eighteen, you're amazing, you'd make the perfect evil boss. Again, I'm not encouraging you. But really, you've got a lot of time to think about what you want out of life. I mean, look at me! I only realized what I wanted last year, and I went for it. Yakov only realized that his calling was yelling at kids at the Trainers' School when he was sixty." He laughs a little. "So, I guess what I'm trying to say is that you've got nothing to worry about, Yuuri."

"Really?" Yuuri asks, almost daring to be hopeful.

"Really." Viktor reaches out, ruffles Yuuri's hair. His eyes are fond. "Everything's going to be fine."

Viktor's hand is warm, and Yuuri almost misses the touch when he draws away. "Okay," Yuuri says. "That's good, then." He laughs. "I guess I was just overthinking."

"Happens to the best of us," Viktor says, and reaches into his pocket. "Anyways, now for the main reason why we're here."

There's something shimmering warmly inside his hand, something so familiar it makes Yuuri's heart ache, and he doesn't know why. It's a necklace—black cord, a silver clasp, and a beautiful, translucent jewel the colour of embers. A Fire Stone, but it's more than that, Yuuri realizes, with a sudden wash of emotion, it's so much more—

"This—" Yuuri almost can't speak for a moment, reaching out to touch the stone. "This was for Viccha—my Vulpix. I thought I'd lost it."

"I was helping your mom clean out some old rooms," Viktor says quietly. "And we found it in one of the boxes with your old battle gear. You must've dropped it."

Yuuri runs his fingers over the smooth edges, remembering. "Yes," he says softly, withdrawing his hand. "I must have."

"Your mom told me that you'd always keep it on you like a lucky charm," Viktor continues. "So I had it made into a necklace, so that you won't lose it again. I hope you don't mind."

"No, no," Yuuri says, and his eyes feel warm. "Thank you, Viktor, really." He lowers his head, and Viktor puts the necklace on him, fastening the clasp with a click. He smiles, a little tearily. "How does it look?"

"Beautiful," Viktor says, and he sounds so honest it makes Yuuri's heart skip a beat. "Happy birthday, Yuuri."

"Thank you," Yuuri says quietly.

He hugs Viktor, burying his face in Viktor's chest, because there really isn't anything more he can say. Silently, Viktor hugs him back, gentle and comforting.

They stay there until the sun sets, the last of its rays glinting off of the jewel on Yuuri's chest, and just for a moment, it sparkles like a fiery, miniature star.

 

Winter creeps in, quiet and grey and cold, but Yuuri's home is always warm and bright. Viktor and Yuri make everything lively, loud—it'll be strange when they leave, Yuuri realizes, and tries quite hard not to think about it. He likes the way things are, though Viktor and Yuri's bickering can get a little tense at times.

"You aren't trusting your team enough," Viktor chastises. "And you just blindly yell commands at them without thinking about the present situation—"

"Whatever," Yuri says. "I won, didn't I?"

"You won _that_ time," Viktor says. "You're lucky that the guy missed his Thunder and you could set up your Gyarados with a Dragon Dance. You're lucky he somehow chose to use Thunder instead of Thunderbolt in the first place—I personally don't know what the hell he was thinking. Why would you even keep your Gyarados out when he switched into a Raichu, anyways? You know you don't outspeed him—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Yuri says, annoyed. "I'll bring in Sceptile next time."

"You know," Viktor says, "it would help a lot if you would Mega Evolve one of your Pokémon."

"I don't need to," Yuri says.

"Don't need to?" Viktor says. "Or can't?"

A silence. Yuuri looks up from his laptop, only to see Yuri glaring sullenly at the floor. Viktor catches Yuuri's eye, and Yuuri shakes his head silently.

Viktor sighs. "Fine," he says. "We'll save that for another day. Yuri, you still up to battle?"

Yuri huffs. "Yeah."

"What do you think of doubles?"

Yuri shrugs. "Whatever. I'll go get my stuff." He gets to his feet and leaves the room.

Viktor makes his way over to Yuuri on the bed, sitting down beside him. He rests his head on Yuuri's shoulder and sighs. "I don't know what to do with him, sometimes," he says, a little tiredly. "As emotional as he is, he doesn't connect with his Pokémon, and sometimes the plays he makes are so risky it makes me nervous. Me!"

Yuuri laughs. "He's young," he says. "Maybe he'll get better when he's older."

"Hopefully," Viktor says, letting out a breath.

"Where are you going?" Yuuri asks.

"Mossdeep," Viktor says. "I'm gonna have Yurio battle Sara and Mickey. You know them, don't you?"

"The psychic gym leader twins," Yuuri says, nodding. "Yeah."

"I want Yurio to think outside the box a little," Viktor says. "Doubles helps with synergy, connections. Or that's what Yakov used to say, anyways."

"Sounds good," Yuuri says, closing his laptop.

"Are you done your work?" Viktor asks. "It would be nice if you came. "

Yuuri runs a hand affectionately through Viktor's hair—it's soft and thin. "I'm not done yet," he says. "But I can bring my work there. I'd like to watch Yuri do doubles."

"Okay," Viktor says, and Yuuri feels him smiling. "That's good."

 

Sara and Mickey have been gym leaders for quite a few years now—Yuuri remembers battling them during his own journey, but it's been so long he doesn't quite know what to expect. He remembers being a little unnerved by how in sync they'd been, how they'd moved like one person instead of two, and how they were most definitely having silent conversations in their heads about all the challengers. Sometimes, they'd just burst into laughter randomly, which was really a little nerve-wracking.

Viktor's about to knock on the gym door when it swings open, and Sara pokes her head out, grinning.

"Hi, Viktor!" she says cheerily. "And little Yuri!"

"I'm not little," Yuri mutters. "I beat you for the badge. And I'll beat you again today."

"We'll see about that," Sara says, still cheerful. Then her gaze lands on Yuuri. "Oh!"

Michele appears next to her, a little sullen, just like Yuuri remembers. "It's Yuuri from Lavaridge, isn't it?"

Yuuri blinks. "You remember me?"

"Who wouldn't?" Sara says. "Your Milotic was beautiful. Anyways, come in, come in!"

It's been a while since Yuuri's set foot in a gym besides Lavaridge's. Mossdeep Gym reminds him a little of Meteor Falls—it's rather unearthly, with a strange sort of unsettling quiet despite the lively conversation.

"I'm glad you called, Viktor!" she says. "The gym's closed today, so we were just battling each other."

"It's not really that exciting when you can read each other's minds," Michele says, sighing.

"Exactly," Sara says. "But now I hear little Yuri's coming in to get his butt kicked, so it's all good! Since this isn't an official gym battle, we can go full out."

Yuri scoffs. "Won't make a difference."

"We'll see, we'll see," Sara says, sing-song.

Yuuri and Viktor settle down a ways off from the arena. Doubles are rather interesting to watch—there's the added element of cooperation, and that's what Sara and Michele do best, working like a well-oiled machine. They command their Pokémon quietly, sometimes not even bothering with a verbal order.

"Take out the Lunatone first," Viktor mutters under his breath. "Yeah, that's it. Set up Swords Dance while the Trick Room's still up, and—good."

"He's doing pretty well," Yuuri says, impressed.

"He's hanging on," Viktor responds. "I'm glad Sara put up Trick Room. Yurio's only strategy is to hit hard and fast, and he really needs to think beyond that."

The battle goes on for a while, the Pokémon trading harsh blows. Yuri's sweat-slicked bangs stick to his face, his voice a little hoarse. Sara and Mickey aren't much better off—there's a sheen of sweat on their foreheads, and they seem to be relying more on verbal commands. The battle ends in a draw, Yuri's Crobat fainting at the same time as Michele's Solrock. For a moment, there's nothing but the sound of heavy breathing.

"Again," Yuri says, returning his Crobat to its ball. He's swaying on his feet—the battle must've been a little too tiring.

"No," Viktor says, standing up. "Sit down, Yurio. Go to the Pokémon Centre and take a break."

Disgruntled, Yuri does so, but his frustration is almost tangible. Viktor helps Yuuri to his feet.

"Are we leaving?" Yuuri asks.

"I think that's rather enough for Yuri," Viktor says. He looks proud. "He did well, considering that he's not used to double battles."

Sara laughs. "That's what you call prodigy, isn't it?" She makes her way towards them, followed by Michele. "You'd know, Viktor."

Viktor grins, drinking up the praise. Yuuri hides a smile. "That was a good battle," Viktor says. "Thank you, both of you.''

Michele nods. "Actually, we were thinking."

Sara's eyes are bright. "Would you mind battling us before you leave?" she asks.

Viktor laughs. "Sorry," he says, "I've only got three Pokémon with me at the moment."

"Oh, that's okay!" Sara says. "Team up with Yuuri from Lavaridge! He's got three."

Yuuri blinks. "Oh, I—I don't really do battling anymore," he says. "I don't think I'd be much of a fight."

"Aww," Sara says, crestfallen. "Please?"

Viktor turns to Yuuri. "It's up to you." He smiles. "It'd be fun though, I think."

"Yeah!" Sara says. "It'll be fun, Yuuri! It's nothing serious."

"Well, I guess—" Yuuri says hesitantly.

"Yes!" Sara and Michele say in tandem, and high-five each other. "Okay," Michele says. "We're going to go heal up our teams, and then we'll be back."

Yuuri waits until they've left the gym to talk to Viktor. "I'm sorry if I mess up," he says, rubbing his hands together nervously. "I haven't battled in years."

"No pressure," Viktor says, looking excited, which is really rather pressuring. "I've always wanted to battle with you, to be honest." More pressure.

"Thanks, I guess," Yuuri says, suddenly regretting everything.

Viktor hums, euphoric.

 

Yuuri'd been afraid for nothing.

Battling with Viktor is easy, natural. Maybe it's because they're friends, maybe it's because Yuuri's studied Viktor's battling style for years. Regardless, it _is_ fun—Yuuri's Pokémon are delighted at a chance to battle, as well. It's been a while since Yuuri's been so excited, so on edge, and Viktor seems happy too. He's grinning, a devious, euphoric grin, laughing when Milotic manages to get a critical hit, shouting words of encouragement at his own Pokémon.

Sara and Michele don't stand a chance.

By the end of the battle, Yuuri is exhausted and elated. Viktor grins at him, dizzyingly bright.

"Guess you really can't beat the Champion," Sara says graciously. "You guys are a good team!"

Viktor doesn't look away from Yuuri. "Yeah," he says. "We are."

Yuuri laughs. "Thank you, Sara, Michele," he says. "It was fun." Someone taps him on the shoulder. It's Yuri, looking downright murderous.

"Battle me," Yuri says.

"Uh, I think I'm good," Yuuri says. "I probably wouldn't be much of a match for you—Viktor carried me for that battle."

"That's not true!" Viktor says. "You're pretty great, Yuuri!"

"Yeah," Yuri says darkly. "You were great. Why didn't you challenge the Pokémon League?"

Yuuri shrugs. "Didn't seem worth the risk," he says offhandedly. "I thought eight badges were enough."

Yuri glares at him for a moment, then stalks off to the gym entrance.

"Thank you?" Yuuri calls after him, confused.

"Ignore him," Viktor says, eyes shining, looking at Yuuri like he's hung the moon. "Yuuri, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Yuuri says, laughing nervously.

"No, really," Viktor says. "You're perfect."

"No," Yuuri says, frowning. "That's you. You're the perfect one, definitely."

"Yeah, you're right," Sara says. "They've got so much sexual tension, it's making it hard to breathe. Do you think they're sleeping together?"

Yuuri and Viktor whip around to stare at her, and she freezes, eyes wide. Michele elbows her.

"Oops," she says, a little nervously. "Did I say that out loud?"

 

"What should I get Viktor for his birthday?"

It's lunchtime, and Yuuri's picking at his food thoughtfully while Phichit feeds his Dedenne grains of rice. They're eating inside now—it's too cold and wet to sit on the front steps.

"Wow," Phichit says, impressed. "Yuuri, look at me?"

Yuuri does, a little confused. "What?"

Phichit whistles. "Damn," he says. "It's like you never liked him at all. How'd you get over him that fast?"

"Classical conditioning," Yuuri says. "Lying to myself. Worked like a charm."

Phichit laughs. "That's almost… a little questionable," he says. "Not that I'm not questioning anything. You're _cold_ , Yuuri, and I love it."

Yuuri shrugs. "Anyways, as I was saying—"

"Lava cookies," Phichit says, and waits expectantly. "Damn, Yuuri. Not even a flinch."

"That's actually a good idea," Yuuri says. "I mean, he's probably got every battle item he needs. He's rich enough."

"Well," Phichit says thoughtfully, "there are things money can't buy."

"What?' Yuuri asks.

"A party!" Phichit says enthusiastically, eyes bright. "Well, I guess you could buy one, but all the same—"

"Oh, hell no," Yuuri says, automatically recoiling at the idea. "I _told_ you what happened last time."

"I'll protect you!" Phichit insists.

"No," Yuuri says.

"Ah," Phichit says. "Guess the old wounds haven't healed completely, have they?"

Yuuri huffs. "Yes, they _have_ ," he says. "I just want to reduce the risk of alcohol-induced awkwardness, okay?" He sighs. "I guess I'll just get him a pound of lava cookies or something. And something else that's as sentimental as what he gave me, which I really can't think of right now."

"Fine," Phichit huffs. "Be boring like that."

Yuuri gives him a look. "You just wanna party."

"Can you blame me?" Phichit groans. "Look at this nasty weather. I feel dead just looking outside."

Yuuri's trying to formulate a response when Seung-gil comes out of nowhere and plops down on the floor, laying his head on Phichit's lap and closing his eyes. Dedenne skitters out of the way and up onto Phichit's shoulder.

Yuuri's a little speechless, frankly. He's been hanging out with Phichit a little less, but how much has he freaking missed?

"Oh, hey," Phichit says cheerfully, patting Seung-gil like he's an oversized pet. "What's up?"

"I'm tired," Seung-gil says, predictably. "And you remind me of my—"

"I swear," Phichit says warningly, "if you say I remind you of your family—"

"—future boyfriend," Seung-gil finishes. "You remind me of my future boyfriend."

"Ah," Phichit says, grinning. "That's better."

"Cool," says Seung-gil, eyes still closed.

Yuuri blinks, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it and looks back down at his lunch, wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Hey," Phichit says. "I know you're tired, but do you wanna make out in the back room until lunch ends?"

Seung-gil opens his eyes, shrugs. "Sure."

"Nice," says Phichit, and they both start getting to their feet. "Alright, Yuuri, see you after lunch!" And then he places Dedenne on Yuuri's lap. "You don't have to see this," he coos, stroking its head. "I'm going to be indecently turned on."

Everything's moving too damn fast. Yuuri can't help but gape as his best friend and his best friend's new boyfriend walk away, presumably to suck face in the back room. On his lap, Dedenne curls up and promptly goes to sleep.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Yuuri says, to nobody in particular.

"Aww," Guang Hong says, sitting down next to him and watching Phichit and Seung-gil leave. "I'm happy for them."

 

The more Yuuri thinks about Viktor's birthday, the more he realizes he has no idea what to get him. It drives him crazy for a few days, and he ends up going to Yuri, the only person in the nearby vicinity who's known Viktor for longer than six months.

"Birthday present?" Yuri says. "Viktor barely celebrates his birthday."

"Something small, then," Yuuri says. "But I don't know what—"

"Just give him whatever," Yuri says. "It doesn't matter."

Yuuri looks at him, a little offended. "Excuse me?"

"I said, it doesn't matter!" Yuri says hotly. "You could give Viktor a freaking empty Potion bottle and he'd treat it like it's made out of solid gold."

Yuuri blinks. "Ah," he says. A beat of silence. "You really think so?"

Yuri looks away. "Yeah, obviously. You've got him wrapped around your finger."

"Oh," Yuuri says, admittedly rather flattered. "If you say so." Another awkward silence. "Thanks, Yuri."

"Wait," Yuri says, turning to look at him again. "Are you, uh—are you guys, uh, a thing?"

"A thing?" Yuuri echoes, even though it's fairly obvious what Yuri is saying. The blush hits him, full-force.

"You know," Yuri says, and it's a bit of a consolation that he seems just as embarrassed. "An item. A couple."

"Ah," Yuuri says, and makes a sound that barely passes as a nervous laugh. "Of course not."

"Oh," says Yuri quietly. And then, under his breath, "That's good, I guess."

"What?" says Yuuri, confused.

"What?" Yuri shoots back.

"Nothing," Yuuri says, still confused. "Thanks, Yuri."

 

That's how he ends up on Route 113, stuffing volcanic ash into a sack.

"You sure he needs this much?" Phichit asks, coughing.

"Yeah," Yuuri says, a little choked himself. A Spinda walks into his leg. "You know, I think this is good. It's cold. Let's just give it to him."

The guy who works at the glass workshop takes a judgmental look at their soot sack, and finally nods. "That'll be enough."

"Oh, thank god," Phichit says. "If you said no, I was just going to give up."

All the coughing and ashy clothes are worth it when the man hands them the glass flute. It comes out lovely, but Yuuri would be hard-pressed to do this again, especially for anyone other than Viktor.

"This is small, right?" Yuuri asks Phichit later. "It's a small gift, I mean?"

Phichit shakes his head. "Yuuri, chill out. It's just a birthday present. You know what I gave Seung-gil for his birthday?"

"What?" Yuuri asks.

"A blowj—"

"Okay, stop right there," Yuuri says. "Anyways, what the hell? You started dating a few weeks ago, and Seung-gil's birthday is in June."

Phichit shrugs. "Fine," he says, "it wasn't his birthday. We were just in the mood. I'll get him a Choice Band or something next year. He's surprisingly into battling."

"Thank you, Phichit," Yuuri says, with a touch of sarcasm. "But really, thank you. I wouldn't have been able to get all that ash if you weren't here."

"You'd do the same for me," Phichit says, grinning. "Come on, bring it in."

It's a good hug until they both start sneezing.

"Okay," Yuuri says. "Maybe we'll save the rest for later."

 

They keep Viktor's birthday quiet, like Yuuri's. All the same, Viktor seems quite delighted.

During the day, they fly out to wherever Viktor’s heart takes them. Viktor, as per usual, has his eye on the secret base decorations, and Yuuri insists on paying for them. Yuri buys a frankly alarming amount of black clothes, slamming the bills on the counter like a young mafia boss.

“Yuri,” Yuuri says, “I don't know how to say this nicely, but you're gonna get us arrested if you keep glaring at that police officer.”

“He started it,” Yuri says vehemently.

Yuuri takes him by the shoulder and steers him away. “Puberty’s hitting you hard, huh? Must be all those teenage hormones making you so hostile.”

“What?” Yuri demands, mortified.

Viktor laughs. “Puberty? He's not going through puberty, he's tiny! He's just angry.”

“Screw you!” Yuri snarls.

“My point exactly,” Viktor says. “Yuri, who hurt you?”

“I'll punch you,” Yuri says, rolling up his sleeves. “Really, I will.”

Yuuri puts a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe not on his birthday?”

Yuri huffs, unrolls his sleeves. “Fine. Tomorrow.” And then he adds, “And you guys have no right to talk to me about hormones when you're both obviously horny as hell—”

Yuuri and Viktor both gasp, affronted.

“We are in _public_!” Yuuri whispers angrily, flushing.

“And it's my _birthday_!” Viktor hisses.

Yuri makes a face. “Okay, okay,” he says, “I'm sorry.”

“Good,” Yuuri says primly.

 

After dinner, there's a knock at the door. It's a grinning Phichit.

“Hi, everyone!” he calls. “Viktor, I've got what you asked for!”

“Lovely,” Viktor says, taking a stack of photos from Phichit. “Thank you so much.”

“Phichit,” Yuuri says, “do you wanna come in? We still have cake left.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Phichit says. “I don't want to intrude. Also, I've got a hot boyfriend waiting for me at home. He might be naked, not sure yet. Anyways, happy birthday, champ!” He high-fives Viktor, grinning. “See you at work, Yuuri! Bye, Yuuri’s family! Goodnight, angry Yuri from Littleroot!” And then he's gone, leaving behind a strangely more energetic environment. It's something Yuuri’s dubbed the Phichit Effect.

“He could've just said ‘Yuri from Littleroot,’” Yuri says under his breath, disgruntled. “I’m the only one.”

“Ah, I like Phichit,” Viktor says, smiling.

“What'd he give you?” Yuuri asks.

“It's my birthday present,” Viktor says. “He took pictures of us while we were out, but sneakily, so they were extra candid.”

“Today?” Yuuri says, surprised.

“Yeah,” Viktor says, handing him a few. “He's been trying to take something good for this photography contest. Here, look. We look good.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, surprised. “We do!”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Yuri asks flatly. “You think we’re not photogenic?”

“No, look,” Yuuri says, showing him. “We look _good_.”

Yuri blinks, then takes the photo. “I'm keeping this.”

“Yuri, no—”

“Hey, check it out,” Viktor says gleefully. “He sent me pictures of baby Yuuri from their pre-teen days!”

“What?” Yuuri says, whipping around.

“Oh, good,” Yuuri’s mother says excitedly, bustling over. “I've been trying to get my hands on those for years, but Yuuri just wouldn't let me—”

“Let me see,” Yuri says, snatching a photo from the pile. And then he starts to laugh, which is not a good sign. “What the hell? You never told me you almost got eaten by a Magikarp.”

“That's not something you share!” Yuuri says, snatching the photo back. “It was my first time doing Magikarp duty, okay?”

But the damage is done. Yuri—angsty, angry Yuri—is rolling around on the floor, laughing so hard there are tears in his eyes, and when someone like Yuri laughs, pretty much everyone ends up having the giggles.

 

“That's it,” Viktor says, still chuckling. “From now on, Phichit is my new god.”

It's too cold and wet to go out to Jagged Pass and make everything dramatic and emotional against the backdrop of a sunset, so they're in Yuuri’s room. Yuri’s passed out in the dining room, partly from eating too much cake, partly from the ten-minute long fit of laughter.

“I hate him,” Yuuri says. “I hate you too, for collaborating with him. You traitor.”

Viktor holds up his hands, still laughing. “I didn't know, I swear! He just said something about a surprise, so I didn't think much of it.”

Yuuri huffs. “Whatever. You still enjoyed it.”

“I did,” Viktor says. “I'm sorry. You were such a cute kid.” He blinks, backtracks. “I mean, you're cute now, too. In a different way.”

Yuuri laughs, feeling his ears heat up. “I have something for you,” he says.

“Oh,” Viktor says, eyes bright. “What is it?”

“Well,” Yuuri says, “two things.” He rummages in his backpack and pulls out a huge bag of Lava Cookies. “Here's the first thing.”

Viktor’s entire face lights up. “Yuuri,” he says, “you're amazing.”

Yuuri grins, hands him the bag. “And—uh, well, Yuri told me to give you something small, and for the life of me, I didn't know what to get. I couldn't get you anything as sentimental as this,” he touches the Fire Stone at his chest gently, “but if anything, it’ll be useful.”

Yuuri pulls out the white flute gingerly, trying not to leave finger smudges on the glass. “There's a glass workshop on Route 113,” he continues. “And they make glass things in exchange for volcanic ash—”

“Is that why you came home one day all grey and dusty?” Viktor asks, eyes wide.

Yuuri laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “Phichit helped.” He hands the flute to Viktor.  “Here,” he says. “Play it.”

Gently, Viktor brings the flute to his lips and plays a soft, wavering tone that resonates through the house. Within a moment, there's the click-clack of claws on the floorboards, and Maccachin appears, ears perked. Delcatty and Beautifly follow, trotting into the room inquisitively. Even Yuri’s Absol shows up.

“It attracts Pokémon,” Yuuri says. “I used to want it so badly as a kid, because if I had it, I wouldn't ever be lonely again.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, his voice unspeakably fond. “Oh, Yuuri.”

“I hope you like it,” Yuuri says, starting to fidget a little. “But it's fine if you don't.”

“No, no,” Viktor says,  a soft smile on his face, “I love it.” He reaches out to pet Delcatty. “Thank you, really.”

“No problem,” Yuuri says, feeling relieved but a little awkward. _He likes it!_ a voice in his head is screaming. “Happy birthday, Viktor.”

“It is, isn't it?” Viktor says thoughtfully. He leans on Yuuri, warm and solid. “Yuuri,” he says quietly, “Yuuri, I adore you.”

It's not fair, how he just says things like this without any warning. An all too familiar thrill runs through Yuuri, making him feel hot and cold at the same time. _You don't mean that_ , Yuuri almost says. _How could you?_

There’s the sound of footsteps. Yuri stops in the doorway, rubbing an eye, staring at the motley crew of Pokémon in the small room in confusion.

“The hell is going on?” he demands. “Are you making my Absol join a cult?”

 

The winter passes by, short but cold. Despite the weather, Yuuri can usually catch sight of Viktor and Yuri practicing outside in the morning, melting what little snow has fallen on the ground. Yuri’s improving, little by little, but the more he and Viktor work together, the more they seem to get on each other’s nerves. It’s probably just cabin fever, but their restlessness makes Yuuri a little tense too.

“You’d think that chasing me all the way to Lavaridge means that he respects me enough to listen to my advice,” Viktor says to Yuuri, and it’s the closest he’s sounded to exasperated. “But—no! No! He just does what the hell he wants, then gets mad when he loses—what the hell am I supposed to say? And he still won’t even _try_ Mega Evolution—”

Yuri doesn’t seem pleased, either. He’s a little more sullen than usual, but he has a lot to say on the subject of Viktor.

“I honestly wish he would stop telling me what I did wrong after every single battle,” he complains to Yuuri, “I get that I do stupid shit sometimes, but I-I’m doing my best, okay? And most of the time, I know my damn mistakes.”

Yuuri runs the brush gently through Delcatty’s fur, a repetitive, soothing motion. His advice to both of them is the pretty much the same, something along the lines of “Wouldn’t it be better if you told this to him instead of me?” And the answer is always a non-committal grunt or an abrupt change of subject.

 

It’s almost spring when Yuri finally snaps.

Yuuri’s in his room, staring vacantly at a graph detailing the regression of Surskit body size over the years when he hears yelling from the dining room. It’s not hard to figure out what’s happening—Yuri’s voice is harsh and cutting through the quiet of the house, and Viktor’s voice, though quieter, is as angry as Yuuri’s ever heard it. Hurriedly, Yuuri makes his way to them, their voices getting louder and louder.

“I thought you said you’d teach me,” Yuri is snarling, and it’s reminiscent of the first shouting match they had when Yuri’d first arrived. “All you do is tell me don’t do this, don’t do that—the hell am I actually supposed to do, then?”

“You would know,” Viktor responds icily, “if you actually listened instead of just completely disregarding whatever information you don’t like—”

“Sometimes I do things my own way,” Yuri says, “because I’m _not_ you! We don’t even have the same team—”

“That’s not the point,” Viktor says, and Yuuri can tell he’s trying to keep calm. “You wanted to know how to to make it to the top of the Pokémon League, and that’s what I’m trying to teach you.”

“Well, guess I’m never gonna make it up there, then,” Yuri says cuttingly.

“Yeah,” Viktor says quietly. “Guess not.”

Yuri looks like he’s been slapped. Yuuri’s heart sinks.

“Viktor,” he says.

Viktor looks at him. “What?” he says, relentless. “It’s true. He can barely look his Pokémon in the eye, let alone Mega Evolve.”

“Viktor,” Yuuri says again, “don’t say that—”

Yuri cuts him off. “Shut up,” he hisses at Viktor. “Who are you to criticize me? I’ve made it almost to where you are without using any tricks.”

“Yeah, if you call bonding with your Pokémon a trick,” Viktor replies sardonically.

“You’re barely a Champion anymore,” Yuri continues mercilessly. “If I hadn’t come here, you’d be spending all your days just sitting around and thinking about how amazing you used to be. You’re a Champion who’s got no ambition left—you’re just a damn shell of who you used to be, and you know it—”

“Shut up,” Viktor says, eyes glinting dangerously. “Shut up—”

“You’re dead,” Yuri spits. “Viktor Nikiforov is dead.”

“Yuri,” Yuuri says, feeling his heart sink even more, “Stop. Stop it, both of you.”

“And you,” Yuri says, whirling on him. “Who do you think you are, acting like my damn mother all the time? You’re barely older than me. You aren’t even a bad trainer, but you went home after eight badges because—what? You were _scared_?” He laughs humourlessly. “God, that’s pathetic.”

Yuuri blinks, reeling. He knows Yuri doesn’t mean what he’s saying, that he’s just trying to wound, but it hurts anyways. “Yuri—”

Viktor gets to his feet abruptly, bristling. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that. We all know that’s not how you feel about him—”

Yuri reaches for the Poké Ball at his belt. “What are you going to do about it, _champ_?”

To Yuuri’s horror, Viktor reaches for Maccachin’s Poké Ball as well.

“ _Stop it_!” Yuuri yells, and flings Milotic’s Poké Ball onto the ground. The Pokémon appears in a flash of light, towering over both Yuri and Viktor, its call mournful and plaintive. The dining room is way too small for Milotic, and it has to arch its neck, coil its body, knocking over a few pieces of furniture in the process. Now more than ever, it’s an elegant, menacing behemoth, glaring at both Yuri and Viktor with glistening, dark eyes. Immediately, most of the tension in the room dissipates. Yuuri stands there, a hand on Milotic’s cool, scaly skin, breathing hard.

“Stop it,” he says again, quieter this time. “Go outside and walk it off. Yuri, you really want me to stop treating you like a kid? Stop acting like one.” He turns to Viktor, whose gaze is sullen, guilty. “Viktor, you’re an adult, for fuck’s sake. If Yuri doesn’t know better, you should.”

Silently, Yuri stalks over to the door, puts on his shoes, and slips out. Thankfully, he doesn’t slam the door. Viktor lingers a little, his eyes finding Yuuri’s.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds earnest enough. “You’re right. And we’re your guests. That was terribly rude, wasn’t it?”

Yuuri sighs, running a hand down Milotic’s neck. “It’s okay,” he says.

Viktor gives him a small smile. “Thanks for being here, Yuuri,” he says quietly, and steps out of the house. “You’re a good friend.”

Yuuri watches him go, feeling strangely calm. Above him, Milotic hums soothingly, dipping its head to press a cool kiss on Yuuri’s forehead. Yuuri smiles.

“Come on,” he says. “Screw Surskit. I feel like taking a nap.”

 

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of Viktor and Yuri’s murmured voices. Viktor laughs, just a little, and  Yuuri goes back to sleep, smiling.

 

Viktor visits him a few hours later, settling down comfortably on Yuuri’s bed. With a huff, he lays his head on Yuuri’s shoulder.

“Well, that's sorted out,” he says.

Cautiously, Yuuri reaches out and runs a hand through Viktor’s hair. Viktor hums, leans into the touch, and Yuuri can't help but feel so impossibly fond. “That’s good,” he says quietly.

“I really was rude to him,” Viktor says. “I guess I’ve been a little of an ass, lately. It's just—” He sighs. “I was so frustrated—every time he lost, I just felt so inadequate. And I guess he kind of got to me by saying all that—about me, and then you. But I guess he’s not all wrong about me—I know this sounds stupid, but I was tired—tired of being champion. I was bored of winning.”

Yuuri hums. “And now?”

He feels Viktor smile against his shoulder. “It's different now,” he says. “I think I can go for another year or two before Yurio snatches my title from me, don't you?”

“You'd better put up a good fight,” Yuuri says, grinning. “He’s incredibly strong, I’ve heard.”

“Oh, I will,” Viktor says. “We can't have all that winning go to his head.”

“No, we can't,” Yuuri agrees. “He’ll end up like you.”

Viktor sits up like he's been burned. “Yuuri!” he gasps, affronted.

“Just kidding,” Yuuri says, laughing. “Maybe.”

“You wound me, Yuuri,” Viktor says in mock sorrow. “My poor heart-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri says, amused. He stands up, stretches. “Anyways, I’m gonna go finish my report.”

“Can I come?” Viktor asks, perking up.

Yuuri hesitates. “Okay,” he says, after a moment of consideration, and Viktor grins bright enough to light up the room. “But be quiet, okay?”

“I'll be quiet,” Viktor promises, eyes wide. “I'll be so, so quiet.”

They both know that's not going to happen, but Yuuri shrugs and helps Viktor to his feet anyways. After all, the inevitable is happening—if Viktor’s words are any indication, he’s going to leave Lavaridge soon for good. But for now, the sun is shining in radiantly through the windows, and Viktor is laughing, chattering on already despite his vow of silence, so Yuuri pushes aside the painful twinge in his chest and smiles, bright and true.

 

“Hey,” Yuri says a while later, once Viktor’s left to go buy something at the PokéMart. He’s standing in Yuuri’s doorway, wringing his hands and looking a little awkward. “Can you, uh—can you teach me how to play with my Pokémon?”

Yuuri shuts his laptop, feeling a smile tug at his lips. “Sure,” he says. “Let’s go find you a ball of yarn.”

 

It doesn’t take long for Yuri to get the hang of it. In the beginning, he plays with an endearing, childish focus, but as they go on, he starts to smile more often. His Absol bowls him over in an attempt to get at the ball of yarn, and Yuri laughs, trying to wrestle the Pokémon off.

Yuuri smiles, feeling something warm inside of him. “I can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” he says, scratching under Delcatty’s chin.

Yuri sits up, red-faced and panting, and his Absol lays down on its side comfortably, gnawing at the now-ruined ball of yarn pinned under its claw.

“I don’t know,” Yuri says, brushing his bangs out of his face. Gently, he strokes the Absol’s side, and it nips at his hand playfully. “It just—never seemed that important. We do everything together already, and we trust each other with our lives, so I just thought it wasn’t something I had to do. I mean, Lilia never really did anything like this.”

“I see,” Yuuri says. “Well, it’s good that you trust each other, but it’s always good to show it once in a while. Pokémon are like people. Everyone wants to see that they’re appreciated and liked, and I know that’s hard for you, but I think it’s worth making the effort, isn’t it?”

Yuri nods, running his hands through his Absol’s shaggy ruff. “You and Viktor do this a lot,” he says.

Yuuri smiles. “Being with Pokémon has always come to me more easily than being with people,” he says. “And Viktor—Viktor’s just that kind of guy. If he likes you, he’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, cracking a small smile. “I guess he is.” He looks up, meets Yuuri’s eyes. “Have I ever told you about my grandpa?” he asks.

Yuuri shakes his head.

So Yuri tells him. About how his grandpa had been the one to bring him up, had given him the egg that’d eventually hatched into Absol. How he’s never stopped believing in Yuri, every step of the way. And Yuuri listens, nods, thinking of the little boy who’d kicked him in the shins so many years ago, and cracks a smile.

“You know,” Yuuri says, after Yuri’s done talking, “you’re actually a pretty sweet kid, Yuri.”

Yuri blushes, looks pointedly at the floor.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, catching himself. “Sorry. I’ll try not to talk like that anymore—”

“No,” Yuri says, looking back up. “No, it’s fine. I’m—I’m still pretty much a kid, and I think I always will be, compared to you.”

Yuuri can’t help but smile. “Oh,” he says softly. “Okay.”

“And—uh,” Yuri continues, “I just wanted to say that—I didn’t mean anything I said back there. That was just me being a dick.” Yuri really does blush a lot, Yuuri notices. “I—uh, I used to look up to you when I was younger, actually. As much as I looked up to Viktor.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “What?” he says, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Yuri mutters, his eyes darting to the side and looking regretful already. “Uh, I’m gonna go now. Come on, Absol. Get up.” And then he scampers off, leaving Yuuri to sit on his bed, half-shocked, half-amused.

 

Spring melts away the cold dormancy of winter, and the land comes back to life.

Mari’s egg finally hatches into a Chingling, which causes a cacaphony of high-pitched ringing every morning at precisely 7:13 AM, until nobody really needs their alarm clocks anymore. Phichit wins the photography contest he’d entered, and immediately takes Yuuri out to an expensive restaurant. Yuuri starts thinking about different career options, and how to tell Minako that he wants to do something new. Yuri works on bonding with his Pokémon until he’s ready to work on Mega Evolution.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” he tells Yuuri, and he sounds vulnerable, nervous. “What if—what if it’s too much? What if we can’t handle it? What if _I_ can’t handle it?”

The three of them—Yuuri, Yuri, and Viktor—are on Route 114, in a wide, open field. Yuri stands there, a hand in his Absol’s fur.

Yuuri opens his mouth to answer, but it’s Viktor who responds first.  

“You’ll be fine,” he says, and ruffles Yuri’s hair. “Both of you. Have a little faith in yourself, Yuri.”

Yuri turns to look at him, then takes a deep breath. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Viktor catches Yuuri’s eye and grins. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s do this.”

 

Mega Absol is a sight to behold, its body lithe and graceful, and the way Yuri grins in triumph is priceless. He sweeps three passerby trainers, and Yuuri’s never felt more proud.

Viktor laughs. “Look at him go!” he says, a grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, smiling. “Look at him go.”

 

“Hey,” Viktor says a few days later, “do you want to come to Ever Grande with me? I left my Key Stone there, because I didn’t think I’d be Mega Evolving anything for a while, but I think I’ll need it now, what with Yurio improving so quickly.”

Yuuri looks up. “Ever Grande?” he says, a little disbelievingly. “The Pokémon League? Am I even allowed if I’m not a challenger?”

Viktor waves a hand dismissively. “You’re with me,” he says.

“What about the Elite Four?” Yuuri says.

“What about them?”

“Would—would I bother them?”

“You’d never bother anyone,” Viktor proclaims airily. He grins. “Besides, they all know about you already. I told them about you.”

“What?” Yuuri says, shocked. “You—you talk to the Elite Four about _me_?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, “why do you sound so surprised? You know I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened since Lava Cookies.” He grins. “So is that a yes?”

“I mean, sure,” Yuuri says, duly flattered and a little flustered. “That sounds good.”

“Awesome,” Viktor says, and gives him a quick hug. “Okay, let’s head out!”

 

Yuuri’s never been to Ever Grande. It’s a tiny, tiny city, with barely any buildings in sight. Mostly, it’s just water and trees and caverns, and Viktor points out Victory Road as they fly over it. They land in front of the Pokémon League building, which is immense and ornate and gives Yuuri a sudden urge to follow Phichit into photography.

“Here we are!” Viktor says, and takes Yuuri by the hand, leading him inside. “Come on, I want you to meet everyone!”

There’s a Pokémon Centre and a PokéMart on the inside, and Viktor runs right past the ace trainers standing sentry at the second door, shouting a greeting as they go by. There’s a long walkway leading to the first arena, and Yuuri takes his time to look around. He can hear the faint sounds of lively conversation in the distance.

“It’s too early for challengers,” Viktor explains, “so we usually just hang out and practice at around this time of year. The first battle arena’s Georgi’s.”

“Georgi,” Yuuri says, racking his brain. “The dark-type specialist, right?”

Viktor nods. “It used to be Yakov,” he says, “but then he retired.”

They walk up to the door, and Viktor grins, pushes it open. The conversation stops abruptly, and Yuuri is suddenly face-to-face with four people he’s only ever seen on television and giant billboards. He knows their names, if not their specialties—there’s Georgi, who seems rather dramatic from what Yuuri’s seen in his interviews; Mila, fiery-haired and vivacious; Lilia, austere and icy; and JJ, handsome and almost pretentiously prideful. All of a sudden, Yuuri feels rather small.

“Hi, everyone!” Viktor says cheerily. “It’s nice to see you again! This is Yuuri!”

“Viktor!” Mila exclaims, face lighting up, and then she tackles him in a hug. “Oh, it’s been so long!”

“Yeah,” Viktor says, grinning.

Mila lets go of him, turns to Yuuri. “And—oh, Yuuri! I finally get to meet you in person!” She hugs him warmly, too. “I’m Mila!” she says, and as if on cue, a Banette materializes at her shoulder. “Resident ghost specialist.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mila,” Yuuri says, and he can’t help but smile.

“Hey, Viktor,” JJ calls, waving. “You got any alcohol?”

“What?” Viktor says, confused. “It’s barely afternoon. And no, sorry.”

Mila lowers her voice. “Georgi’s girlfriend just broke up with him,” she says quietly, but not quietly enough, because Georgi lets out a choked sob and slides down against the wall. Viktor gasps, shocked.

“Oh, good grief,” Lilia says, making her way over to the distraught Georgi. “Talk more quietly, won’t you, Mila? And it’s good to see you, Viktor.” She gives Yuuri a curt nod. “And you, Yuuri.”

“Hi,” Yuuri says quietly, frankly a little starstruck.

“Georgi, fucking pull yourself together,” Mila calls over her shoulder, exasperated. “God, why are all dark-type trainers so damn emo?”

Lilia shrugs. “At least you didn't marry one,” she says dryly.

“I would never,” Mila says resolutely. “If I see more than _one_ dark type on a person’s team, they aren't getting a second date.”

Georgi moans into his arms. “That's probably why Anya left me,” he says despairingly. “Too many dark types—”

“No, no,” Mila says hurriedly, “that's just my personal preference, Georgi—your team is perfect. Some girls are into the dark types, you know?”

“More girls are into the dragons, though,” JJ says, and winks. “Hell, just add one dragon onto your team, Georgi. The girls’ll be after you in a blink.”

Georgi raises his head cautiously, eyes red-rimmed. “Like Hydreigon?” he says weakly.

“Like Hydreigon!” JJ says, delighted.

“Shut up, JJ,” Mila says. “Georgi, don't listen to him. All dragon-type trainers are cocky assholes.” JJ opens his mouth to speak, insulted. “Oh, go suck a Moonblast, JJ.”

“Whoa, whoa!” JJ says, holding his hands up. “I thought we agreed, Mila. None of that fairy-type stuff when I'm in the room—”

“Gardevoir,” Mila says, rapid-fire. “Sylveon. Whimsicott. Florges. Let's see—what else is there—”

“I'm leaving,” JJ says, a look of absolute revulsion on his face. He makes a beeline for the door.

“Azumarill!” Milan yells after him. “Xerneas! Oh, Geomancy Xerneas with a White Herb!”

The door slams. Mila laughs, delighted, and turns to a bemused Yuuri. “I love doing that,” she says.

“I don’t know,” Yuuri says quietly, shrugging. “I think dragon-type trainers are kind of cool.”

“Oh, definitely,” Mila says, grinning wickedly. “Don’t need JJ to hear that, though. His head’s big enough as it is.” Her gaze shifts to Viktor, and her eyes widen. “Oh, Viktor’s jealous!”

“What?” Viktor says. “No, I’m not. I’ve got an Altaria, so technically I’m a dragon-type trainer anyways.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Mila says, grinning. “Anyhow,” she says to Yuuri, “don’t flaunt your love for dragon trainers so openly. Viktor’ll get killed trying to catch Rayquaza or something.”

“That’s it,” Georgi says, sighing. “I’m catching a Deino first thing tomorrow.”

Mila sighs, but pats his head affectionately. “If you must, Georgi,” she says. “If you must. Anyways,” she says, turning back to Viktor and Yuuri, “what are you doing here, Viktor? Thought you were taking an extra-extended vacation.”

“I am,” Viktor says. “But I’m teaching little Yuri how to battle, and I need my Mega Bracelet.”

Mila’s eyes widen. “You’re coaching little Yuri? The angry child?”

“Yeah,” Viktor says, laughing.

Mila whistles. “Intense,” she says. “That kid’s going to end up a monster.”

Viktor nods sagely. “He will.”

“Anyways, I’ll walk you guys to the back,” Mila says. “I want to talk to Yuuri.” She gets to her feet, her Banette hovering around her head like an intimidating satellite. “Lilia,” she says, “do you mind watching Georgi while I’m gone?”

“Oh, not at all,” Lilia says, settling down next to Georgi. “Here,” she says to Georgi, handing him a Lava Cookie. “They’re good.”

Mila takes Yuuri’s hand. “Come on,” she says, leading him to the arena exit. “This way. Viktor’s told me quite a bit about you already. You’re a research assistant, huh? What do you research?”

 

“I like Mila,” Yuuri says as they fly back. The wind is a little chilly, but the spring sun warms him from head to toe. Beautifly is more chipper than usual today, made cheerful by the end of winter.

“She likes you,” Viktor says. “But don’t be fooled—she can be scary. I mean, nobody normal really ends up a ghost specialist.”

Yuuri smiles. “I guess not,” he says. And then, “I didn’t know you told them so much about me.”

It must be the wind that makes Viktor’s cheeks so rosy. “We’re all very close,” he says. “We’ve got a group chat.”

“That must be nice,” Yuuri says. “I hope Georgi’s okay.”

“He’ll get over it,” Viktor says. “It’ll take a while, but he’ll be fine.” And then he makes a face. “I have to pee.”

“What?” says Yuuri, a little exasperated. “You should’ve gone at Ever Grande! I asked you if you had to.”

“I didn’t have to go then,” Viktor responds. “But I kinda really have to go now.” Panicked, his Altaria starts looking around, searching frantically for a spot to land.

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says, and they end up landing in front of the Lilycove Pokémon Centre. Viktor fairly runs inside.

Sighing, Yuuri finds a bench facing the sea and sits, Beautifly fluttering into the sky to play with Viktor’s Altaria. A few minutes later, Viktor settles down beside him.

“You good?” Yuuri says, and makes to leave, but Viktor reaches out and takes his wrist, pulling him back down gently.

“Let’s stay here a while,” he says, smiling. “Since we’re already here.”

Yuuri shrugs. “Okay.” Overhead, a group of wild Wingull have joined Altaria and Beautifly in the air, and they race across the sky like a strange troupe of friends.

Viktor sighs contentedly, looking out towards the shimmering water. “This reminds me of the first time we went out together,” he says.

Yuuri laughs. “Yeah,” he says. “That seems so long ago, now.”

“I know,” Viktor says. “And really, it wasn’t even that long ago—barely a year.” He turns and catches Yuuri’s eye, grinning. “It’s just that—for some reason, I feel like we’ve known each other forever.”

Viktor is beautiful when he smiles. Yuuri knows this. Yuuri should be used to this. “Yeah,” Yuuri manages to respond, “I get what you mean.”

“I know I’ve said this before,” Viktor says, voice soft, “but I’m really glad I met you, Yuuri.”

 _Oh,_ Yuuri thinks, and he feels himself falling.

A nice day at the ocean, a beautiful smile, and sweet, intoxicating words—that’s all it takes, really. All the protective walls Yuuri’s built up around him over the last few months crumble to dust in that moment, and he’s vulnerable again, vulnerable and exposed and in love. He’d probably never really fallen out of love with Viktor in the first place, but he’d been good enough of a liar to convince himself and everyone around him for a while.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says faintly. “Me too.”

The Wingull circle lazily above them, their calls just a little mournful.

 

Yuuri finally sees his Salamence for the first time that year, and it gives him a little bit of attitude.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri says, as it pointedly ignores him in favour of Beautifly. “It was winter, and it’s cold here, you know? I’ll come see you more often now.”

The Salamence huffs, a cloud of smoke rising up into the air. Milotic hums melodically, amused.

“You,” Yuuri says, looking up at Milotic, “be quiet. Look,” he says to the Salamence. “I’m sorry. I brought you more Poké Puffs. And I’m in love with Viktor again.”

A knowing meow from Delcatty. Yuuri glares at her.

Thankfully, the Salamence seems appeased, and a few minutes later, it’s laying its head back in Yuuri’s lap to be hand-fed Poké Puffs.

“I mean,” Yuuri says quietly, “there’s really nothing much I can do, huh?” He sighs. “I wonder who decides who I fall in love with, anyways. It sure as hell isn’t me, and that’s not exactly fair, is it?”

The Salamence nuzzles his fingers fondly, lifting a wing so that Delcatty and Beautifly can creep under it.

“Definitely not fair,” Yuuri continues. “Anyways, what’s up with you? Did you do anything these past few months? Any new lady dragons?” He spots a faded scar on the underside of the Salamence’s belly. “Oh. Got in a fight, huh?”

Yuuri sits there in silence for a while, and then finally voices the question weighing on his mind.

“What the hell am I supposed to do about all this?” he asks, and looks down at the Salamence expectantly.

It’s fallen asleep.

“Oh,” Yuuri whispers. “Sorry.”

 

Spring is the season of change (“And sex,” Phichit adds cheerfully, high-fiving Seung-gil), and this soon becomes painfully evident to Yuuri.

“I’ll probably leave next month,” Yuri tells him. “I’m going to train at Victory Road.”

Yuuri blinks. “Oh,” he says, feeling a little hollow. “Good luck, then. I’ll miss you.”

Yuri gives him a look. “Next month,” he repeats.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, still not feeling all that great. “I’m still gonna miss you, though.”

“I don’t get you,” Yuri says.

“Me neither,” Yuuri says honestly, thinking about Viktor.

 

“Yuri’s leaving in a month,” Yuuri says to Viktor, a little sadly.

“Oh, yeah,” Viktor says. “He told me. Hey,” he says. “Check this out. I can stick five Lava Cookies in my mouth at a time.”

He almost chokes.

 _This is the man you’ve chosen to fall in love with_ , Yuuri tells himself despairingly, as he runs to fetch Viktor a glass of water.

“Anyways,” Viktor says, coughing a little, “speaking of which, I’m probably gonna have to leave soon, too. I’ve been invited to the PWT, so I think I’ll give it a go. It’s in Unova this year, during the summer.”

Yuuri’s eyes widen. “What? The World Tournament?”

Viktor nods. “It’d be cool to meet other Champions,” he says eagerly.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says absently, “yeah, it would.” He sighs, smiles wistfully. “So you’re both leaving. I guess I’ll be a little lonely.”

Viktor blinks, looks at him intently. “I could always stay,” he says. “They’ll invite me next year, anyways—”

Yuuri smacks him on the head. “What the hell?” he says. “No! You should go!”

“Ow,” Viktor says, wincing. “Fine, fine. Or,” he says, his eyes lighting up, “you could come with me. You want to travel, don’t you?”

Yuuri smiles. “Yeah, I don’t think so, Viktor,” he says. “I can’t just up and go somewhere like you do, you know? I’ve got a job here—”

“But you can find a job wherever we’re going, too!” Viktor says eagerly. “You’ve got an impressive resume, you could do it!”

“My family’s here too,” Yuuri says, and he feels a little guilty offering up that as a reason, because it’s not even the biggest one. 

“It won’t be for that long,” Viktor says. “We can always come back and visit from time to time.”

“No, Viktor,” Yuuri says. “I can’t. Not with—” He almost says, _not with you of all people_ , _I'm in love with you and it'd kill me_ , but bites back his words at the last moment. “Just—drop it, please.”

Viktor’s face falls. “Okay,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for being too pushy.”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri says softly, feeling guilty for being so harsh. “I’m sorry, too.”

“It’s just—” Viktor sighs. “I’m going to miss you, you know? A lot.”

“Me too,” Yuuri says, and he rests his head gingerly on Viktor’s shoulder, wishing with all his heart that things were different. Quietly, Viktor puts an arm around him, and they stay like that for a while, just enjoying each other’s warmth.

 

Yuuri deals with being in love a little better than last time. He blushes, but he doesn’t stutter all that often, and he’s usually able to form a coherent verbal response, even when Viktor ends up shirtless for whatever reason. The nerves, the butterflies—it’s all to be expected. What Yuuri doesn’t expect is for Yuri of all people to be the first person to notice.

Yuri doesn’t beat around the bush.

“You’re in love with Viktor, aren’t you?” he says, and it’s not even really a question.

Yuuri’s not even drinking anything, but he still manages to choke. “ _What_?”

“You’re in love with him,” Yuri says, sounding sullen. He’s lying on the floor, leaning against his Absol comfortably.

“Well, I—” Yuuri takes a look at Yuri’s serious expression, and oh, what the hell. He sighs, feeling a familiar flush in his cheeks. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess I am.”

“Ew,” Yuri says.

Yuuri glares at him. “You’re the one who asked!”

“No,” Yuri says. “I meant ‘ew, Viktor.’ You’re _way_ too good for him.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, a little surprised. A pause. “You really think so?”

Yuri nods. “No idea what you see in him,” he says. “And I don’t wanna know.”

“Okay,” Yuuri says, a little taken aback.

Yuri looks up at him lazily. “You gonna tell him?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “I’m not stupid,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” Yuri says, “but what does that have to do with anything?”

Yuuri scoffs. “Viktor’s _Viktor_ ,” he says, and Yuri raises an eyebrow. “He doesn’t like me. He told me that to my face.”

“You told him you liked him before?” Yuri asks, curious.

“No!” Yuuri says, running a hand through his hair, distressed. “No, I didn’t even say a thing, and I got turned down!”

“Wait, what?” Yuri says. “I’m a little confused here.”

So Yuuri tells him—about Viktor’s drunken confession, about the kiss, and everything after.

Yuri narrows his eyes. “Well,” he says. “You sure Viktor’s telling the truth?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Yuuri asks.

Yuri shrugs. “He’s Viktor,” he says enigmatically. “You guys are both equally oblivious to stuff like this.”

“And you aren’t?” Yuuri asks testily.

“Ask my three girlfriends,” Yuri says. “And boyfriends,” he adds as an afterthought.

Yuuri blinks, taken aback, then shrugs. “Alright.”

“No, no,” Yuri says hurriedly. “I’m single. I was just kidding.” Then he snorts. “Did you actually believe me?”

Yuuri scoffs. “Of course not,” he lies. And then, “Loser.”

“Says the guy pining after an actual loser—”

There’s a joyful bark, and Yuuri turns to see Viktor and Maccachin standing in his doorway.

“Hi!” Viktor says, grinning, as Maccachin bounds in.

Yuuri’s blood goes cold, and he shares a panicked look with Yuri out of the corner of his eye.

“Viktor,” Yuri says slowly, “how long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to hear Yuuri call you a loser,” Viktor says cheerily. “I have that moment recorded and stored in my head.”

“Frick,” Yuri mutters, but Yuuri barely hears him. He’s so relieved he could pass out.

 

They hold Yuri’s going-away party a few days before he actually leaves. Despite his prickly demeanour, Yuri’s surprisingly popular with Yuuri’s friends. Yuuko’s particularly fond of him, and Guang Hong seems to enjoy his company—Yuuri’s seen the two of them talking about different battle strategies. Phichit jumps at the opportunity to go to a party, and despite Yuuri’s initial reluctance, he ends up agreeing to hold the party at his place. His parents don’t seem to mind.

“I’ve got one rule,” Yuuri says. “Don’t do anything stupid. Especially you, Phichit. Write that down or something, just so you don’t forget.”

“Got it!” Phichit chirps.

He’s the first one to arrive, holding a huge sign that says DON’T DO ANYTHING STUPID in one hand and a huge bag of chips in the other. Seung-gil peeks in over his shoulder.

Yuuri sighs. “You’ve already broken the rule.”

Viktor runs into the lobby, footsteps loud on the floorboards. “Phichit!” he says, gleefully.

“Champ!” Phichit says, equally gleefully, and he drops the sign, the chips, and tackle-hugs Viktor, who responds with fervour.

Yuuri rolls his eyes. “Hey, Seung-gil,” he says. “Come in.”

 

Everything happens almost like last time. Seung-gil and Takeshi end up having another staring contest, and Minako shows up out of the blue. Phichit’s snapping pictures again, sticking to Yuuri like a burr. Yuuko’s fighting with Viktor, but this time Yuri’s yelling too.

“Shut up,” Yuuko says, slurring her words a little, and—wow, she’s really letting go today. “You’re like—seven.”

“I’m sixteen!” Yuri snarls, and as if to prove his point, takes an aggressive gulp of orange juice.

“You are?” Viktor says, amused. Strangely, he’s going rather easy on the alcohol today. “I honestly thought you’d just hit double digits.” He’s sober enough to dodge the punch aimed at his face.

Later on, Minako sits down next to Yuri and looks him straight in the eye. “Yuri,” she says. “Do you know how much a PokéDex costs to make?”

“No,” Yuri says, taking another sip of orange juice.

“Way more than you’ll ever make, ever,” Minako says. “And—honestly, I can’t help but die a little inside when I see that you’ve got like only twenty entries. That’s a research device, kid. You gotta start pulling your weight like Guang Hong and Minami.”

Yuri rolls his eyes. “I’ll fill the whole thing in when I’m Champion,” he says.

“Am I still gonna be alive by then?” Minako asks, and Phichit snorts, spits out whatever he’s drinking.

“Yes, you will,” Yuri snarls vehemently. “It’ll be soon, so you’ll be extra, extra alive.”

“Eloquent,” Minako says, and downs another drink. “Hey, Yuuri!” she calls. “Can you still dance? You and that Beautifly?”

“Dance?” Minami says, whipping around.

“I used to teach Yuuri how to dance before he started working for me,” Minako says, grinning. “Such a cute kid.”

“Minako!” Yuuri says, scandalized. Now everyone’s staring at him. “That’s _private_!”

“Oh, let go of your shame, Yuuri,” Minako says, waving a hand dismissively. “Dance is a _weapon_. You should wield it, you know?”

Viktor mumbles something under his breath. Yuuri turns to look at him. “ _What_?”

“Whatever, Yuuri,” Yuri calls. “Everyone knows that you’re dancing when your door is closed and there’s music playing. We can see you sometimes from outside the window.”

“What the _hell_ ,” Yuuri says, mortified. Phichit hugs him reassuringly, but he’s laughing so hard it doesn’t really count as an act of reassurance.

“I mean,” Viktor says, avoiding Yuuri’s eyes. “You were good at it.”

“ _Viktor_!” Yuuri says, betrayed, and sinks down to the floor, putting his head in his hands. Phichit’s laughing, but keeps holding him anyways, and even Maccachin pads over, though it’s probably just to cuddle.

“Well,” Yuuko says, “there’s the first embarrassing secret of the night. But it’s not even that embarrassing. It’s just another one of Yuuri’s hidden talents.”

“Speaking of hidden talents,” Viktor says, “I can stick five Lava Cookies in my mouth—”

Yuuri looks up, glaring at him. “ _No_ , you can’t!”

“Good,” Yuuko says, narrowing her eyes at Viktor. “If you had hidden talents, I would have kicked you for being overly blessed.”

Viktor sticks his tongue out at her.

“Wow,” Yuri says. “I sure love hanging out with adults. You guys are so mature.”

“Be quiet,” Minako says. “You’re drunk.”

“He’s drinking orange juice,” Yuuri points out.

“Fine,” Minako says. “ _You’re_ drunk.”

Yuuri frowns. “I’m drinking water.”

“Whatever.”

 

Surprisingly, Yuri manages to stay awake until everyone’s left, and Yuuri carries him gently to his bed.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs, and Yuri hums, mumbles something unintelligible. Yuuri turns off the light and closes the door behind him.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t go to sleep right away—it’s past midnight. Maybe it’s because the party’s gotten him a little too excited to sleep, maybe it’s because there’s something soothing about being the only person awake in the house. Either way, he ends up working, partly out of habit. About half an hour in, there’s a knock at the door.

It’s Viktor, still a little rosy-cheeked, hair beautifully dishevelled. He rubs an eye. “Hi,” he says.

Warning bells are already going off in Yuuri’s head. “Uh, hi,” he says. “I thought you were sleeping.”

Viktor shakes his head. “Couldn’t. Can I come in?”

“Sure, I guess,” Yuuri says, a little warily.

“What are you doing?” Viktor asks as he steps into the room. He sounds a little nervous. “Working?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, and sits back down at his desk. Viktor just keeps standing in the middle of the room, fidgeting anxiously.

Yuuri frowns, turns around in his chair. “Do you need something?”  

“Yeah, uh,” Viktor’s gaze is unsteady, flickering from left to right. “Can we talk?”

Yuuri blinks. The alarm bells are really, really loud, now. “No offense,” he says, a little frantic, “but could we do this in the morning? We don’t really have a great track record for having good conversations after parties—”

“I’m in love with you,” Viktor blurts out, and—oh, that’s great, isn’t it? Everything happening again and again, the exact same way, just the way Yuuri was afraid it’d be. “And I know you’re in love with me—”

“What?” Yuuri demands, heart pounding. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor says, meeting his eyes, “but I couldn’t not tell you anymore—it’s been so long, and I’m leaving soon, and I heard you and Yuri talking—I’m sorry—”

Yuuri’s reeling. “No,” he says, smiling mirthlessly. “No. You can’t just pull this shit with me again and again.”

“Really, Yuuri,” Viktor says, his gaze intent, “I mean it.”

“No, you don’t!” Yuuri exclaims, exasperated and just on the edge of angry. “What, is it going to take another whole _three_ weeks for you to get bored of me this time, too?”

“That was never true!” Viktor says, voice rising. “I-I thought you were getting freaked out, so I just told you that so you’d be fine around me again—I like you! I’ve liked you this whole time—”

“What?” Yuuri says, and he’s hearing the words but they don’t make sense. “No, that’s not right. You’re—you’re _you—_ ”

Viktor frowns. “What the hell are you talking about?” he demands.

“You’re _you_!” Yuuri says, trying to convey his point. “Champion! Money! Friends! Alolan Ninetales—”

Viktor narrows his eyes. “Are you saying,” he says, “that I couldn’t possibly like you because I’m _me_?”

“Yes!” Yuuri exclaims. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say, you—you dimwit!” God, even his vocabulary’s failing him.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, looking almost angry, “you are _ridiculous_.”

“No,” Yuuri says, “no, I’m not. You’re the ridiculous one. It’s two in the morning, and you’re trying to tell me that you’re in love with me. That’s infinitely more ridiculous.” He laughs, a little crazed. “I was—I was going to go to sleep in fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sorry,” Viktor says, more quietly. “I just—I just couldn’t keep it from you anymore.”

“Ridiculous,” Yuuri says again, taking off his glasses. He turns back around to the desk, shutting his laptop, then gets to his feet and holds the door open.

“Yuuri—”

“Go to bed, Viktor,” Yuuri says, feeling so, so tired. “You’re probably drunk.”

“I’m not,” Viktor insists. “Not this time, Yuuri.”

“Whatever,” Yuuri says.

“Yuuri, I’m in love with you,” Viktor says, and he sounds just as wrecked as Yuuri feels. “I know I’ve done some stupid things, and I get that it’s hard for you to believe me, but please, just listen, okay?”

Yuuri doesn’t move, just looks up into Viktor’s beautiful, blue gaze wordlessly.

“You make me happier,” Viktor says quietly, “kinder. You make me feel like I’m seeing everything for the first time, like everything is more beautiful than it actually is. I like you so much, really—I love your smile and I love your laugh and I love the way you talk. I love the way you read, and the way you push up your glasses, and the weirdly sexy way you eat. You dance like a freaking god, and you love your family and your Pokémon so much it makes my heart hurt.”

Yuuri listens, and he’s falling, falling. His heart feels confused, elated.

“Going out with you is literally the highlight of my week,” Viktor goes on. “When I’m we're together, there might as well be nobody else in the entire world, because nothing else matters. And when I think about my future, you're there. You're always there. And that’s—that’s why I asked you to come with me to Unova. I’m in love with you, Yuuri. Really, truthfully, I am.”

There’s a warm, flickering sensation spreading from Yuuri’s head to his toes, a quiet euphoria that threatens to bubble over at any moment. For some reason, he feels like he's about to cry.

“Wow,” he murmurs, and he smiles up at Viktor, a little shakily. “You ever consider going into poetry?”

Viktor’s entire face lights up, and Yuuri notices that his eyes are a little wet, too. “Why?” he asks quietly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Yuuri’s ear. “Are you impressed?”

“Maybe,” Yuuri murmurs, and they’re inching closer to each other like this, each drawn in by the other, unresisting, irresistible.

“What about you, Yuuri?” Viktor asks, and there’s that cocky smirk again, back where it belongs. “I’ve done an awful lot of talking and soul-baring. Your turn, isn’t it?”

“Not a chance,” Yuuri says, smiling.

“Here,” Viktor says, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together, “I’ll make it easy for you. Are you in love with me, Katsuki Yuuri?” He’s close, so close, close enough so that Yuuri can make out a pale freckle under his right eye, can see the wetness of his lashes.

Yuuri laughs. “In your dreams,” he murmurs teasingly.

Viktor chuckles, a soft huff of breath. “Fair enough,” he says. “But I’m going to ask again. Are you in love with me?”

“You’re an idiot,” Yuuri whispers, “Yes, yes, I am.”

“Say it,” Viktor says.

“I’m in love with you, you huge idiot,” Yuuri says, and it feels like a giant weight’s been lifted off of him—there’s nothing but an electric, silvery thrill running through his veins, a sweet anxiety curling in his stomach.

“Oh,” says Viktor, and there’s a shaky smile on his face, almost like he’s about to cry. “That’s good, then.”

And then they’re kissing, a gentle pressing of lips that makes Yuuri’s blood thrill with the contact, and he buries his hands in Viktor’s hair. This—really, it’s only kissing, just a mere contact of less than a few square inches, but Yuuri doesn’t ever want to stop. Viktor’s hair is silky and soft in his fingers, and with a moan, Viktor deepens the kiss, introduces tongues and just enough teeth to make Yuuri gasp.

Somehow, Yuuri ends up pressed against the wall. Viktor kisses him with a bruising, searing desperation, and Yuuri accepts it, opening his mouth and returning the favour. He feels Viktor’s hands finding their way under his shirt, touching and roaming and warm. It’s gotten a little filthy rather fast, and Yuuri vaguely wonders if they're being too loud.

Eventually, they come apart to breathe for more than two seconds. Viktor’s beautiful eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, lips dark and kiss-bruised. Yuuri imagines he must look the same. After a moment of heavy breathing, they both burst out laughing.

“I ruined your hair,” Yuuri notes, amused.

“Who cares?” Viktor says, pressing a kiss to Yuuri’s forehead, then to his cheek, his neck. Yuuri giggles. “We’re in love, Yuuri. With _each other_.”

Yuuri’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah,” he says. “We are.”

“Mine,” Viktor says against his neck, breath warm. “You’re mine. And I’m yours.” He sighs contentedly. “We were both kind of stupid, aren’t we?”

“Definitely,” Yuuri says, stroking Viktor’s hair gently.

Viktor straightens up to look Yuuri in the eye. “I like you, Katsuki Yuuri. I like you so damn much.”

“I like you too,” Yuuri says, and he can’t help the stupid grin on his face.

“I’m so happy,” Viktor says, beaming. Then he sobers a little, resting his head on Yuuri’s shoulder. “And turned on.”

Yuuri flushes, full body, but he laughs. “You and me both,” he says.

Viktor looks at their surroundings curiously. “Hmm,” he says. “You don’t think we could—now—”

“ _No_ ,” Yuuri says emphatically. “Besides, Maccachin’s here.”

It’s true. Maccachin’s somehow made it into the room and curled up on Yuuri’s bed while they’d been making out, and Yuuri feels a little guilty, a little indecent.

“He’s sleeping,” Viktor says, and sure enough, he is. The poor Pokémon is probably bored to death of his two favourite humans trying to eat each other’s faces. “But I guess there’s no rush.”

“Yeah,” says Yuuri. “We have time.” He pecks Viktor on the lips again, and Viktor grins, ear-to-ear. “So,” he says. “What’s the plan?”

“Now that we’re boyfriends?” Viktor says. He looks at Yuuri cautiously. “We are boyfriends, right? I need explicit confirmation.”

“Definitely,” Yuuri says. “Any complaints?”

Viktor shakes his head, a blissful look on his face. “Well,” he says. “Seeing as there aren’t going to be many challengers yet, I could stay here for a month or so more.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yuuri says. “And then?”

“Let’s go somewhere,” Viktor says, eyes bright. “I’d like to go the PWT, but only if you come, too. And after that, anywhere”

Yuuri grins. “I’d like that,” he says. “I’ll need to sort out a few things before we leave, but—I’d like that.”

Viktor makes a little sound of joy, dips his head down to rest on Yuuri’s shoulder. His hands are beginning to roam under Yuuri’s shirt again, grazing softly over his skin, and Yuuri lets out a breathy gasp, squirms restlessly.

“Kiss me again,” he orders, and Viktor does, long and deep.

Maccachin sleeps for a long time.

 

The next day, Yuuri wakes up to the familiar call of Chingling, which sounds a little like an angry army of invading windchimes. There’s a lingering feeling of contentment from last night, and for a moment, he almost forgets why, until Viktor stirs next to him, breath warm against Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri turns so they’re face-to-face. “Hi,” he says, almost a little shy.

Viktor smiles lazily at him, pulls him closer. “Hi, lover,” he says, and presses a soft kiss to Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri laughs. “That tickles,” he says. He sits up, disentangling himself from a reluctant Viktor. “Well, I guess we should get up.”

Viktor groans. “I don’t want to,” he says. “Get back down here. It’s the weekend.”

He’s right. So Yuuri shrugs, gets back under the covers, and Viktor wastes no time in kissing him stupid.

 

“Whoa,” Mari says, raising an eyebrow when she sees Yuuri leave his bedroom. “Relationship upgrade much? Well, it’s about time.”

Yuuri blinks. “W-what?” he demands. “I mean, you’re right, but how’d you know?”

“Come with me,” Mari says, and Yuuri follows her to the bathroom, where they stand in front of the mirror, and—

“Oh my god,” Yuuri says, looking at the extremely prominent marks on his neck, and he literally sees his reflection turn three shades redder.

“Yeah,” Mari says. “I feel a little violated seeing them, to be honest. My own little brother, ravished so thoroughly—”

“Ew,” Yuuri says, making a face. “Don’t be gross.”

“Says the guy with like five hickies on his neck,” Mari says, chuckling. “You got any of those anywhere else?”

“I’m not answering that question,” Yuuri says primly. “Let me borrow your jacket. The one with the collar.”

“I know which one you’re talking about,” Mari says. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” She smiles, ruffles his hair. “I’m glad it finally worked out between you two. It was getting a little frustrating, seeing you guys dance around each other for months.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, smiling back at her. “I’m glad, too.”

 

The next month is a bit of a blur.

Yuuri finally does two things he’s been putting off. First, he adopts the wild Salamence (which really can't be considered truly wild at this point), and second, he talks to Minako about his career prospects, and while she’s loathe to let him go, she’s happy that he’s branching out, becoming more independent.

“I know a guy in Kalos who does research on Mega Evolution,” she says, stroking the Linoone on her lap absently. “That’s what you’re interested in at the moment, right?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, nodding.

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Minako says. “You’ll be back after the World Tournament? I’ll get in touch with you then. If everything goes well, you’ll probably be able to head your own research in a few years.”

“Thank you,” Yuuri says earnestly, and he means it. “For everything up til now.”

Minako’s tearing up. “You—you were always a good boy, Yuuri,” she says. “A good boy and a brilliant researcher. I’m glad you’re going to see the world.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, touched. “But I’ll still be here for a while. I have work tomorrow. I’ll probably come back to work eventually.”

“All the same,” Minako says, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

 

Talking to his family is a bit more daunting—there isn’t really a nice way to say _I’m kind of dropping all my responsibilities and going on a soul-searching journey with my boyfriend—_

“Well, I don’t see why not,” his mother says.

“I get it if you don’t want me to go,” Yuuri says. And then he blinks. “Wait, what?”

His father smiles. “You’ve been working so much, Yuuri,” he says. “And we love you for being such a hard worker, but it worried us when you never took time for yourself.”

“Yeah,” Mari adds. “I keep telling you, business is better now. You never had to work as much as you did.”

“What we’re trying to say is that you should go,” his mother says. “Call us often. But have fun, Yuuri. Live a little. After all, your Viktor is so very handsome.”

Yuuri looks at them, bewildered. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” his mother says, smiling, and it’s as simple as that.

 

Phichit, on the other hand, is inconsolable at first, but accepts it in the end.

“I’m glad you’re together,” he tells Yuuri at lunch. “I’m glad it worked out, but honestly, I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Yuuri tells him.

“Good,” Phichit says. “You should.” He smiles, stands up. “Come on,” he says, “let’s get back to work. You’re not on vacation yet, buddy.”

 

Viktor and Yuuri make sure to visit Yuri at Victory Road before they go, and he pretty much reacts how Yuuri expects him to.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re finally having sex, congratulations,” he says, rolling his eyes and wiping the sweat on his brow. “And I don’t really care where you go, but make sure you’re back in time when I challenge the league.”

Viktor’s eyes sparkle. “I will be,” he says. Suddenly, he turns to Yuuri. “Oh, I just remembered! We’ve got to buy more Lava Cookies. They don’t sell them outside of Hoenn.”

Yuri gives Yuuri a look. “I can’t believe you picked this guy, of all people,” he says, making a face. “Whatever,” he says, before Viktor can retort. “I’ll see you guys around."

 

Yuuri’s last day of work before leaving is barely a day of work at all—everyone’s excited, cheerful, the spring breeze bringing a bright excitement to everyone in reach. Viktor flies over to have lunch with Yuuri, and they sit on the front steps of the lab contentedly in the sun, Maccachin and Delcatty play-fighting with each other in the grass.

“I’m excited,” Yuuri admits, finishing up his food. “I almost feel like this isn’t real, sometimes.”

Viktor grins, presses a chaste kiss to his temple. “Does that feel real enough?” he asks.

Yuuri laughs. “I can’t tell,” he says. “You’ll probably have to do that again.”

“Ah,” Viktor says, voice turning flirtatious. “Well, if I have to—”

Yuuri kisses him, but it’s a little hard because they’re both laughing.

“Okay,” Viktor says afterwards. “I don’t know how to put this delicately, but I’m kind of turned on right now.”

Yuuri blinks, tries not to blush. “Just from that?” he asks, amused.

“And from watching you eat,” Viktor admits, after a moment. “It’s kind of hot.”

“I—” Yuuri splutters for a second. “You were serious?”

“Yeah,” Viktor says. “Is that weird?”

“Kind of?” Yuuri says, very, very flustered. “I don’t know?”

Viktor sighs, leans against Yuuri. “There isn’t anywhere, uh—private we can go, is there?”

“No,” Yuuri says regretfully, and then he pauses, remembering. “Wait, no. There is.”

 

And that’s how they end making out with each other in the back room of the lab. The lights are off but Viktor’s hands are everywhere, and when he licks into Yuuri’s mouth, Yuuri can’t help but moan, feeling a familiar heat at the pit of his stomach.

“Off,” Yuuri says breathily against Viktor’s mouth, tugging at his shirt, and Viktor complies readily. Yuuri sheds his own shirt soon afterwards, and things are progressing nicely until someone turns on the light.

“Oh my god, Yuuri!” Minako yells, and covers her eyes, looking down.

Yuuri yells, first out of shock, then out of mortification. Viktor yells too, but probably just for the sake of yelling.

“There’s a time and place for everything,” Minako almost screeches, “but not now—not here! That—that is not lab safety, Yuuri!”

“I know,” Yuuri says, pulling on his shirt, mortified and apologetic at the same time. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry,” Viktor echoes, also putting his shirt back on and looking rather afraid.

“You’re wearing clothes now, right?” Minako says. “I can look up?”

Yuuri clears his throat. “Yeah.”

She does. “For fuck’s sake,” she says, exasperated. “At least have the decency to lock the door like Phichit and Seung-gil do.”

“Uh—” Yuuri doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“I’m going to walk out of this room and pretend I never saw any of that,” Minako says. “I’m going to bleach my brain.” She sighs. “I grew up with your mother, Yuuri! I was there when you were born, for heaven’s sake!”

“I know,” Yuuri says. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Minako says, leaving the room. “You too, Pokémon Champion!” She narrows her eyes. “You most of all. Anyways, lock the damn door.”

“She’s seen through me,” Viktor whispers, when she’s gone. And then, “Lock the door?”

“That’s a green light,” Yuuri says, and pulls his shirt off again. “Guess we can pick up where we—”

Viktor doesn’t let him finish the rest of the sentence. It’s a good lunch break.

 

They fly out the next day on Yuuri’s new Salamence after saying their goodbyes to everyone. The Salamence is large and strong enough to carry both of them at the same time, which Viktor likes. They’re heading out towards the seaport, and then Yuuri remembers.

“Can we go to Mount Pyre for a bit?” he asks. “I need to visit an old friend.”

Despite being a cemetery, Mount Pyre isn’t as sad or as scary as Yuuri remembers. He walks among the headstones quietly, Viktor’s hand in his. A few Shuppet peek out at them from the fog, disappearing whenever they come too close.

Vicchan’s grave is on the outside of the mountain. It’s nothing special, just a generic, unmarked tombstone with a single pawprint in the middle. Almost unconsciously, Yuuri fingers the orange jewel at his chest, remembering. He places a small bouquet of wildflowers at the grave, releases his Pokémon from their Poké Balls. Delcatty and Beautifly settle down near the headstone, uncharacteristically somber, and Milotic watches over them, quiet and calm.

“Hi, Vicchan,” he begins, a little unsteadily. “It’s me. And the rest of us are here, too—look how big Milotic is now. Hard to believe he was small enough to live in a fishbowl, huh? And look,” he says, smiling at Viktor, “I brought your namesake. He reminds me of you a little, sometimes.”  A silence, an intake of breath. “I—I’m leaving to go somewhere for a while, and I just wanted to tell you—we all miss you. And I hope you’re happy, wherever you are.” His voice falters a little, and Viktor squeezes his hand reassuringly. “Sleep well, Vicchan.”

They stand there in silence for a while, Yuuri letting his Pokémon pay their respects before returning them to their Poké Balls. Quietly, they clamber onto Salamence’s broad back, and they’re airborne in a moment, Mount Pyre receding into the distance with each wingbeat.

Viktor presses a gentle kiss to Yuuri’s nape. “Are you okay?”

The day is beautiful and bright, Viktor’s presence warm and familiar at his back, and the horizon spreads out in front of them, wide and welcoming. Yuuri turns to him, thinks of all the places they’ll see together, all the people they’ll meet, and he smiles.

“Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I will be.”

This, Yuuri supposes, is what people truly call happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> katsuki yuuri—ability: cute charm, hidden ability: dancer :D
> 
> Thank you all so much for everything!  
> I've been wanting to write a Pokémon AU since last summer, really. And I've tried—there's a huge unfinished haikyuu fic sitting somewhere in my docs, never to see the light of day. Anyways, I don't think I'm done with this universe yet! I still have to write about what happened in Unova, which didn't make it into this chapter, and I've got some pretty concrete ideas in my head for an Otayuri fic set in Sinnoh. :)  
> Honestly, it's rather strange to write something this light-hearted. The last proper fic I wrote was just tears all over the place. This was fun, though! It's probably because I've been watching so many comedy TV shows lately LOL
> 
> Anyways, Yuri's full team is Absol ♂, Sceptile ♀, Froslass (gift from Lilia) ♀, Crobat ♀, Gyarados ♂, and Zangoose ♂. (A pretty cool team, aesthetically speaking, imho. For a pretty cool kid.)  
> Viktor: Maccachin (Alolan Ninetales) ♂, Altaria ♀, Starmie, Mawile ♂, Breloom ♂, and Raichu ♀. (one of those multi-type champions, like my girl cynthia)  
> Originally, I tried giving all the Pokémon nicknames, but that got really confusing, really fast. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks again! Have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> This au is the love child of me and several essay deadlines. The chapter titles are all going to be either Pokémon abilities or moves because I'm a giant nerd, if it wasn't already obvious from this fic's existence.  
> If you're wondering why Yuuri is flying with a Beautifly, it's because I read Pokémon Adventures and I personally think it's a loss that decently-sized bug Pokémon can't carry you but a wingless, two-headed ostrich can.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


End file.
